


The Things Left Unsaid

by speakingofalice



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Aliens, Angst with a Happy Ending, Forced Isolation, Heavy Angst, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mind Control, Running Away, heavy cursing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-02-15 13:56:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2231580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speakingofalice/pseuds/speakingofalice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forced to give up his command to save the life of his best friend, James T. Kirk leaves the Enterprise with the threat to never return. Luckily for Jim, his crew doesn't give up so easily. </p><p>"McCoy, what is this I'm holding in my hand?"<br/>"I'm not sure, Admiral Pike. What is it?"<br/>"Let me read the first line -- I, James Tiberius Kirk, hereby resign my commission as Captain of the Starship Enterprise."<br/>... At that instant, Bones could feel his heart stop beating in his chest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Enemy Within

**Author's Note:**

> Never written Star Trek before so here goes nothing!
> 
> Also this is cross posted on Fanfiction.

Maybe there was no other way. Maybe there's a time and a place to quit, to end, to throw his hands up to space and say, "I can't do this. You win. You win..." He didn't believe in a no win scenario but maybe it was time that he started to. He couldn't win this time, he couldn't fight this fight. There was no one to fight. Well, there was but no one he could win against. No one he could pound his fist into over and over again until his arm shook covered in blood both his and theirs. There wasn't anyone who he could shoot three times in the chest and once in the face like the instructors at the Academy had joked once about doing - to ensure the enemy was dead beyond a shadow of a doubt. He couldn't do that. He couldn't lash out with his fists or pull his phaser from his belt and shoot because there was no enemy.

There was no enemy to fight. No one to move aside, to push. There was no one to talk down. But there was a gun. A fully loaded, totally accurate, completely antique and incredibly barbaric twentieth century pistol cocked and ready to shoot and kill with blood splattering and screaming.

Jim hated guns. He hated phasers almost as much but guns, guns held a special place of hatred deep in his heart.

It was a gun that got him in trouble when he was five and had found it in his Daddy's box of old things that was stuffed away in the back of the attic behind Sammy's toys that he never played with anymore. He'd found it buried under a pile of old bound paper books that he'd never seen before and shirts that smelled musty with a hint of spice from Daddy's cologne that Mommy had used to wear when she got sad sometimes. Little Jimmy had grabbed the shiny metal whatever it was and brought it to his mother, all smiles and awestruck at how glinty it was, how small it was but heavy and solid in his tiny hands.

"Where the hell did you get that?!" Was screamed at him so loudly, so fast he'd dropped the shiny metal revolver and skidded away from it as fast as he could. His mommy, all crazed blonde hair and face reddened in anger had grabbed it with clawed hands and hid it away out of his sight. He'd never seen it again and from the three days when Mommy hadn't spoken to him he'd learned never to touch Daddy's old box again.

It was guns that Kodos' men had used to usher and move the masses of people into the down square. Guns that were held up and out with fingers on triggers when the slightly balding man with a clean shaven face and red robe tied around his thick torso had given his speech.

"The revolution is successful. But survival depends on drastic measures. Your continued existence represents a threat to the well-being of society. Your lives mean slow death to the more valued members of the colony..."

The sound of gun fire popping was the first sound after Kodos' strange speech. Jim had hit the ground fast already recognizing the sound. People screamed. The woman to his right - Karren's mother Kardeth who he'd met the first day of school - looked around wildly before ducking and falling to her knees, blood gushing from her side. She fell to the side her brown air spilling in all directions and eyes still open, dirt and blood splattering the whites. It was chaos, complete with screams of surrender and the begs of forgiveness. Beside him three more people fell face first on the ground smashing into the pavement hard enough to break bone. The citizens of Tarsus scrambled and ran stepping on the bodies of the dead to get out, get away from the bullets. Someone kicked Jim in the face, another stepped on his knee. Jim yelled in agony hearing something crack and seeing stars burst in his eyes. He couldn't get up to move or escape so he stayed still. He grabbed at Karren's mom's body then at the other bodies around himself and pulled as hard as he could. With the sounds of guns peppering and people screaming he covered himself in bodies and slowed his breathing trying to play dead.

It felt like hours later when bodies littered the ground like a second pavement and blood ran in rivers from the dead. Guards walked over the dead with their guns out and hands still on triggers shooting the ones who twitched or moved at all, making sure the dead were truly dead. One guard came close to where Jim was hidden and stopping looking around. Jim held his breath and closed his eyes forcing his face to go lax. That was the day Jim learned that playing dead killed a piece of your soul.

It was a bullet that had been shot into his shoulder when he was eighteen working at a mechanic shop and believing himself to be invincible. The mugger thought he could lift all the money in the little shop that Al Jensen - old man with grey hair and missing teeth even though it was the twenty third century and no one lost their teeth anymore - owned. The mugger dressed in black and picked the absolute wrong guy to mess with as Jim got done finishing up a beautiful 2245 lime green Mustang. He was covered in grime, tired, annoyed as all get out and pissed as hell.

"Give me all you got and maybe I won't have to shoot ya."

Jim. Eighteen. Survivor of Tarsus. Living on his own. Making his own way in life. Invincible. Had scoffed at the man.

"Try it."

And the gun went off and Jim went down and the mugger ran out just as surprised at the gun discharging as Jim was. When the ambulance had showed up minutes later after Jim had commed them they'd looked at his wound with fascination not having seen a gun shot wound in such a long time.

Now it was a gun that pointed not at him but at his best friend. It was digging into the soft flesh of his temple. There was only two people in the Captains Quarters at this time of night when the rest of the ship was either sleeping or on skeleton shift. One person in the Captains Quarters was shaking in fear and anger with a hint of confusion sloshing around - that was Jim. And the other one was calm, cool, collected and had a gun to his head - that was Bones.

"Bones put the gun down. Please." Jim had his hands out slightly hunched and voice soft, pleading.

A smile formed around Bones's mouth and when he spoke it wasn't his gruff southern twang that urged him to wake up when he was injured or called for him during the Academy days or grouched at him saying, "Dammit Jim!" It was a different voice entirely. Shrill, too high. Evil in every sense of the word.

"Bones isn't hear right now, Jimmy," Bones mouth spat out his name like a curse making him flinch.

"Okay..." He tried to put the pieces together in his head as quickly as his brain could comprehend.

It was a successful mission on a non hostile planet full of blue and purple skinned humanoids who used more sign language than actual spoken word. Then it was treaty to join the federation signed and back on the ship he went. They'd taken no casualties at all which was always the markings of a good mission.

Jim had gotten back in his chair and finished off the rest of his shift before venturing back to his rooms, showering and changing and walking to Observation Deck 7 for some poker with the command team. Bones had been there sipping his glass of bourbon while everyone else - save Chekov who had a bottle of grape KneeHigh - had enjoyed a glass of Scotty's own brew from his still that Jim had never seen deep in engineering that Jim didn't know about. After seven hands Uhura had folded claiming stiff fingers and sore wrists after having to communicate with the people planet side all day for the last three days. She'd grabbed Spock on her way out. Sulu went next saying he wanted to catch up on his reading in his room then Bones left remembering he had to call Joanna tonight. Jim had made it one more finger of whiskey and three more hands before he finally had to call it a night and walked back to his quarters. When he'd entered he was surprised to see darkness as he always kept some light on. He'd flipped the switch and almost shit himself when Bones appeared in his room sitting at his desk shadowed in the corner.

"Jesus Christ Bones, you scared the shit out of me." When Bones hadn't moved, hadn't laughed, hadn't talked Jim knew something was wrong.

"Bones...?"

That's when the gun came out and that's when his best friend had spoken in a voice not his own.

"You do what I say or I kill your best friend."

So that's it. No explanation. No reasoning. Just Bones going fucking nuts in his room. Jim's face hardened into a scowl. "What do you want?"

Again Bones's face lit in a smirk that the real Bones rarely used. It was chilling to see eyes dead but face smiling. His eyes were all pupil, no green-speckled-brown irises. It was so strange, unnatural.

"Simple, really." The not-Bones said digging the barrel of the gun even deeper into his friend's skin until his head was practically at a tilted angle still smiling. "You permanently resign your captaincy from Starfleet, go back to Iowa and never step foot on another ship again and maybe I won't kill Leonard Horatio McCoy."

Jim didn't even have to think. Maybe this wasn't a no win scenario and maybe, just maybe if he thought hard enough and long enough he could maybe, possibly think up one of his brilliant plans he was so famous for. Maybe he could get the gun from Bones's hand and knock the good doctor out before whoever had taken control of him could lash out. Maybe he wouldn't have to give up... But he couldn't think. Not now. When a gun is being held to your best friends head you don't have time to think.

"Fine. You win."


	2. The Heartless Man

Chapter 2: The Heartless Man

The skeleton crew greeted him with confused stares and brief but professional hello, Captain's

Jim nodded at the on-duty officers then quickly shuffled past the stationed crew to go into his ready room at the back of the bridge. The automatic door whooshed open when he was three feet from it and he entered. The door closed a second before Jim fell against the wall heart pounding, blood rushing. His heart felt like a knife had been driven into the center of it, like someone had taken a bat and pounded it, like a child had thrown it against the wall. It hurt so bad that a part of himself wondered if he even had a heart anymore. He looked down at his hands noticing how they shook at his sides. His mouth felt dry and eyes sore. His whole body was just as confused as his mind and heart.

"Who are you?" Jim had asked, begged, after he'd agreed to resign his commission.

That same smirk sat on not-Bones' lips heavily when he spoke. "My name is Sha'thrill and that's all you need to know."

The gun had been lowered from Bones' head but was still in his hand clutched in tight. Jim's brows furrowed angrily. "I'm giving up my command I think I deserve to know who the fuck you are."

Bones' head tilted to the side, he licked his lips with is tongue just peaking through to touch his outer lip. It was subtle, gentle. Something the real Bones never did. He never did anything so subtle, so gentle. He was gruff with a beside manner to match his cantankerous personality. He was a southern doctor to the backbone. "Actually you're saving your best friend," Sha'thrill informed Jim with a smile. "I'm helping you do that by not killing him. But if you prefer a bullet in his head, I'll kindly oblige you." In a flash the gun was up and digging into his best friends temple. Jim took an involuntary step back with his hands up.

"No! Stop! You're inside of him." Jim said quickly. "You kill him you die too."

Slowly, slower than any movement Bones had ever done Sha'thrill pulled the gun from his temple. A white circle left a divot in his best friends head. "You really have no idea what I am or what is going on do you? Idiot."

Actually, genies level repeat offender, Jim thought but kept his mouth closed this time not wanting to agitate the thing inside Bones.

Sha'thrill slowly lowered the gun and looked at Jim with Bones' dead eyes. "Resign, Captain. Then get off the ship or I will your Bones then move on to the rest of your crew."

Jim breathed sharply out of his nose thinking quick. He wanted - no - needed to know what this creature was. He needed to know what was inside of Bones, who Sha'thrill was. What type of alien.

"Stop thinking so loudly, Kirk," Sha'thrill said meandering to Jim's desk chair swinging the gun in his hand.

"What are you?" Jim's voice shook and wavered. Too much emotion building up in his head, flooding his heart making it ache in ways he hadn't felt since five year old Sonne had died on Tarsus from being shot in the head by a soldier.

"To the federation, I don't exist. To the Klingons, I'm just a nightmare. To the Andorrans, I'm mentioned but in whispers and to the Vulcans, I'm nothing but an illogical children's tale. But to you I'm the worst motherfucker you'll ever meet." He ended his small speech with a sneer. For a moment the eyes that Jim knew so well lit up more green than brown. They lit and lit until they were almost florescent. Chills creeped down Jim's spine. Maybe... Maybe he could get to the gun. Maybe he could charge the man and Sha'thrill would shoot him instead of Bones. Maybe he could -

"And don't think you can beat me. All I have to do is leave this body and go into a new one and you'd never know where I was or who I am until it's too late."

Even with all the things that he'd done, all the lessons he'd learned, every test he'd aced and every mission he'd completed Jim couldn't think of a way out of this. The enemy was on the inside already.

"I will take all of your most trusted people out one by one until it's only you," Sha'thrill seemed to find himself funny. "But you don't have to worry, James. The last one standing needn't stand for too long.

Jim pulled up a blank document as he sat at his terminal. He stared at the white screen. It felt like the white was burning into his eyes. He typed four words then stopped, his fingers not moving.

I, James Tiberius Kirk -

He couldn't write anymore. He couldn't. He'd been a screw up, a fuck up, a dumbass his whole life. He'd been told he'd never amount to anything, that he should have gone over with the car into the quarry. He'd been forced to do horrible, terrible, unspeakable things on Tarsus to survive. He'd picked fights and slept around and drank and drank and drank until alcohol leaked from his pours. He'd been a womanizer, a manwhore. A no good. A dirty rotten. A thief. A liar. He'd been more worthless than the dirt on the road he rode his bike over. He'd been nothing...

But then Pike had shown up and given him that stupid, stupid, wonderful dare to do better. And he'd taken it. He'd taken it like he'd taken the food from Kodos' kitchens when he'd snuck in to help feed his kids. He'd taken the dare and it changed his life.

With Starfleet he could be something, someone. He wouldn't just be the failure son of a dead hero. He wouldn't just be the victim of Kodos' genocide. He'd be someone other people respected. He could be someone people looked up to instead of down upon.

He'd met Bones. Bones with his southern drawl and flask of bourbon at eight o'clock in the morning. Bones in his bitter divorce with an ex-wife that had taken the whole damn planet. Bones who was surely and gruff and said Dammit too often and cursed and drank and had a quick temper and low tolerance but could bullshit with the best of them and cared more for the people on his table than his entire well being and who had the most beautiful daughter this side of the earth. Bones who took care of Jim even when he'd push him away and scream and throw stuff and say he wasn't worth it. Bones who woke him up from nightmares and dragged him back from the library late at night and who gave him hangover hypos and supported him when he needed a friend during the worst of times.

Starfleet had become a new life but Bones became his home.

... herby resign my commission...

Jim wrote another line with trembling fingers. He tried to stretch his hand out to stop the tremors.

It would be okay. Everything would be fine. The Enterprise didn't really need Jim anyways, he thought. Spock would become Captain and really, he was supposed to be the Captain. If Jim hadn't accused him of not caring for his dead mother Spock would have stayed Captain. And Sulu would move up to fist officer - one step closer to getting his own ship like he'd been aiming for since the Academy. There'd be no one to bug Uhura and no one to beat Chekov in chess. Scotty could finally make that new brew of Klingon Ale that Jim ordered him not to make since it would put them all on their asses so fast they'd have concussions. Everything would be fine. They'd be fine. The Enterprise would be... Fine.

... as Captain of the USS Starship Enterprise.

Jim wrote the last line in his three page resignation then sat back. In it he'd given the entire crew accommodations and praise on their hard work. He'd written that they all should be promoted and talked of their bravery in all that they have ever done. But not one word in the three page document told of how much he would miss them. How much he loved them in all the ways a Captain could love his crew and more. Neither did he write why he was resigning. On that matter he wrote: personally compromised. No longer able to fulfill the duties assigned to being the Captain of a Federation Starship.

James Tiberius Kirk most certainly did not cry as he finished his resignation and hit send then shut down his terminal and walked from the ready room that wasn't his anymore.

James Tiberius Kirk did not cry as he walked slowly back to the Captains Quarters not meeting anyone's eye but nodding at the crewmen at all the right times and shoved clothes and shoes and little tinkers into a duffel bag haphazardly. When the bag was only half full he took off his command shirt and stuffed that in there as well. Then he grabbed his leather jacket and the watch from Old Vulcan Spock had given to him months ago and was out the door.

James Tiberius Kirk did not cry as he ordered the Ensign on duty to transfer him to the nearest ship heading back to earth, the Jefferson. The Ensign - Bar'lo - had looked at him with confused eyes to which Jim had only smiled at him sadly and took his place on the transporter pad.

"Energize."

James Tiberius Kirk didn't cry as he materialized on the smaller yet functional transporter pad of the Jefferson to a burly looking ensign who showed him to where he'd be staying until they reached earth in two days time. Jim nodded at the man who just turned and left.

James Tiberius Kirk, no longer Captain of the USS Enterprise cried into his hand soundlessly as he lay on the small bed he was given. That was it. It was over. A part of Jim always thought he'd stay in Starfleet his entire life or until a mission ended him and he went out in a blaze of glory and a rebel yell. He never thought he'd just give up. But that's what he did. He gave up to save his best friend.

Jim couldn't even feel his heart anymore as he lay on the bed clutching his duffel bag tight to his chest.


	3. The Dreams That Bind Me

Chapter 3: The Dreams That Bind Me

_Red eyes stare at him from an abyss of darkness. The eyes were pin sized and unwavering looking at him wherever he went, baring down on him, staring at him, laughing at him. He couldn't get away from those eyes no matter how hard he tried._

_It was dark. So dark. Light seemed to be nonexistent in this world where only darkness ruled with an iron fist. The darkness was alive. Moving and shaking and morphing and those eyes. Those eyes were looking at him again. Always looking. Always laughing. Always judging his every move and laughing while he stumbled around in the dark._

_He tried to run. Running always helped. He was good at running, all kinds of running. Running into a fight, running to fetch something, running to save someone, running away. It didn't matter. So, he ran._

_His arms pumped and his chest tightened and his throat screamed but he had to get away because those eyes were staring at him. Always staring. Calculating and sizing and measuring and seeing how long it's going to take until he breaks._

_Suddenly, there's something in front of him - no, it's someone. Curly hair and a face too young to be a man but old enough that he couldn't be considered a boy. He's adorned in a gold shirt with red splotches soaking around his torso growing in circumference with every step Jim takes closer to the person. A sound mixed between a scream and an intense intake a breath echoes from Jim's throat and reverberates around the dark abyss. The eyes are still looking at him from behind the person in front of him._

_It's Chekov. Covered in blood. Eyes bloodshot completely covering any white that used to be there. He's clutching a bloody knife in his hands and shaking. His legs are holding himself up by force and willpower alone._

_"Pavel-" Jim's voice is hollow._

_"Vhat..." Chekov's voice is cold in all the ways it should be warm and it chills Jim's bones. Jim shutters violently._

_"Keptin Kork?" Chekov asks with tears in his eyes. He's steady for a second longer before his legs give out on him and he falls. Jim dives to catch him a second before his head could collide with the black ground. His eyes are closed as Jim wraps his arms around him. Jim's doesn't notice the tears that leak from his eyes. The knife slides from Chekov's hands making a dull clink as his hits the ground._

_"Pavel?" Jim asks when Chekov doesn't open his eyes. "Pavel, wake up. Come on, wake up," Jim begs. He looks down at the boy's chest seeing red bleed through his shirt. Chekov's face is so white, so pale. Him puts his ear to Chekov's chest to hear for a heart beat then screams brokenly when he doesn't hear anything. Blood trickles on the ground around the teenager and Jim coating them both. The darkness around Jim moves and morphs again. There's something out there._

_"Wake up Ensign, that's an order," Jim demands shaking the boy. Blood. So much blood. Too much. And it's warm, hot even as it leaves Chekov's body. Jim wants to throw up. He shakes him again. "That's a goddamn fucking order!"_

_Nothing happens. He feels for a pulse then screams again at no one and everyone. Chekov's dead._

_"Please. No."_

_The eyes so red they match the blood covering the ground stare at him._

_Jim sobs looking down at the youngest member of his crew, his friend. Dead. He wasn't fast enough, smart enough, good enough, he wasn't_ enough _to save him. He didn't save him. Dead... Chekov was dead._

_"No!"_

~o0o~

Jim wakes with a start grabbing and clawing and kicking with a scream on his lips. He kicks hard hearing something rip before he's falling, falling, falling then smashing into the ground with a groan.

Jim stops what he's doing with his face pressed into the floor and his legs still entangled in the sheets on his bed. He lays still a moment opening and closing his eyes.

_Just a nightmare. Just a nightmare. It's okay..._

He growls at himself forcing his heart to slow and his breath to catch up to him. He orders the lights on and winces when they assault his eyes. Jim looks around seeing the same room he's been in the last week aboard the _Jefferson_. It's small and neutral colored with one bed and a bathroom in one room and a couch in another.

_It's okay. It was just a dream... Just another fucking dream._

Every night it's a different person. First it was Bones who held a gun to his head then it was Spock with a phaser centered between his own eyes. Uhura with a dagger at her throat and Sulu holding a sword against his sides. It's always a different person but the same outcome - they turn the weapon on themselves and pull the trigger or slice with the knife and Jim can do nothing but scream and cry and demand and beg for it to not be true.

"Dammit Jim," he says to himself. "Get yourself together."

Slowly, Jim untangles himself from the blankets and gets up. He sits on his bed heavily, wide awake and exhausted at the same time.

He sits for hours not moving, just thinking. His mind is sluggish but he forces it to think. He doesn't want to think about the Enterprise and his crew and... Bones. But he has to. It feels wrong not to think about everything he left behind and the people who he lost.

The more sensible part of himself knows that he didn't really lose anybody but the surface part, the one that just lost his ship and his career is hell bent on torturing him with all that he doesn't have.

Before he knows it his alarm is blaring to his side and it's time to get up, the _Jefferson_ is reaching earth today. It's time to go home.

An hour later Jim is dressed in the same shirt he wore when he left the _Enterprise_ and his leather jacket. Jim doesn't look at himself after his shower, he's scared to look into his own dead eyes. He's already seen enough of those in the people he dreams of.

With duffel bag in tow he leaves his room for the first time since boarding a week ago. He travels to the transporter pad not looking at any of the crew members that whisper behind hands and into ears staring at him as he passes.

The _Jefferson_ was smaller than the _Enterprise_. It had one transporter pad where the _Enterprise_ had two. Only one observation deck and seven science labs. It wasn't an exploration ship but it wasn't terrible either. The Captain, a woman with wispy hair and stern eye browns also named Molstic, had been polite and didn't ask any questions when she'd come by to welcome him aboard. She'd looked at his tired eyes with clear pity then saluted him and walked out like the good captain she was. The _Jefferson_ was a good ship, steady, sturdy and space worthy but it had nothing on his ship.

Jim stopped his slow walk to the transporter pad and sucked in a breath surprising even him. His heart gave a shutter, it hurt.

 _Not my ship anymore_ , his mind whispered in his ear. Jim looked around finding himself in a hallway free of any other crew members. He took a deep breath, scrubbed his eyes so hard stars appeared then kept on walking like nothing had happened in the first place.

When he entered the transporter pad, Jim nodded at the ensign on duty then stepped up. He pulled his sunglasses and ball cap from his bag to hold in his hands.

"Ready sir?" The ensign asked.

 _No_.

"Yes."

Jim feels his body tingle in the most familiar way and his heart sinks. Before he can blink he finds himself on the transporter aboard Space Station 1 just outside Earth's atmosphere. The tech working at the transporter looks at Jim for a moment before his eyes light up in recognition. Jim looks at the man sternly when he sits up straighter and opens his mouth. The man's posture depletes slightly when he catches the hardness in his eyes. Jim nods hoisting his bag further up his shoulder then steps off the pad. He's almost out the door when the man speaks.

"It is true that you resigned, sir?"

Jim whips around fast. "How did you-"

"It's all over the news feeds. They're saying you quit Starfleet. Is it true?" The man is bent over now, his voice wavering as if he was scared of Jim. Jim licks his bottom lip for a moment before walking towards the man. He bends down and places his hand lightly on his shoulder. With a smile that doesn't reach his eyes he says, "you are doing a great job here. Keep up the good work." Then he about-faces and leaves with quick steps.

Jim slides on his sunglasses then pulls the cap over his head and zips up his jacket. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and slouches trying to make himself invisible. Then he looks around, finds the most crowded place and walks towards it intent on getting himself lost in the throngs of people before his shuttle takes off for earth.


	4. Stop My Beating Heart

Leonard "Bones" McCoy stumbled slightly out of his bed when the ringing of his alarm clock became like a jack-hammer shooting into his skull. His hair ruffled something awful and his uniform from the night before still on, horribly crinkled, he walked the short distance from his bed to the bathroom. He ordered the lights on wincing when they lit the room with what should have been a soft glow. Leonard looked at himself in the mirror eyeing his reflection with distaste.

 _Must've been a crazy night_ , he thought while running one hand through his hair, the other one grabbed for his toothbrush. Leonard bent down after brushing his teeth to spit out the paste and saliva then stood back up and wobbled slightly on his feet. The room spun, he could feel his head turning in circles. His brain gave another hearty pound sending chills down both arms and the back of his neck.

"Damn," he muttered slowly removing his clothes. "How much did I drink last night?"

He got into the shower deciding it was a good day to use some of his water credits that he'd been storing up when he felt like this. Leonard turned on the water humming a tune softly while his mind wandered off to a certain Captain with sunshine gold hair and blue eyes deep like the ocean.

_My oh my, you're so good-looking_

_Hold yourself together like a pair of bookends_

_But I've not tasted all your cooking_

_Who are you when I'm not looking?_

Leonard got out of the shower still singing the old song. He dried off thinking of Jim and what he was doing. Today was Thursday so it would be second shift for him while Leonard had the entire day off. Light duty for the away team from the negotiations and a regular schedule for the rest of the crew.

Leonard dressed in a clean uniform then grabbed one of his hangover hypo's he kept for just an occasion like this and injected himself in the right place where it wouldn't hurt then threw the hypo away. He took hold of his comm unit and flipped it open as he walked out the door.

"McCoy to Kirk," he said into the comm while walking down the hallway. Leonard waited a few minutes for Jim to reply before trying again. When no one spoke back, Leonard just closed his comm.

_Probably still asleep._

He continued to walk towards the Captain's quarters at a leisurely pace nodding a crewmen he liked and scowling at those he knew still owned him trips to the MedBay for physicals. Absently he thought about his best friend. The was his eyes lit up in amazement last night when Leonard had dropped his hand of cards down to show everyone his royal flush.

"That's like, impossible! The odds on getting a royal flush in this game is... A million to one!"

"Actually Captain, the odds are not that substantial as it is completely likely to pick up the order of playing cards-"

Spock had been silenced with a glare from not only Jim but also Uhura and Scotty. The green blooded hobgoblin had looked down at his cards, shifted only minutely then spoke without looking up.

"Of course Jim is correct that it is truly a feat that you managed such a draw of cards, Dr. McCoy."

Leonard had glared while Jim had smiled at Spock with a gleam in his eyes that showed unmistakable happiness. If Leonard hadn't known any better he would have thought it was affection that layed deep in his best friend's eyes as he looked at the Vulcan. But he knew better and the way Jim had turned his gaze at Leonard when he thought he wasn't looking made Leonard's heart skip a beat even now, a night later walking down the corridor.

Jim is... He's a man with a past and too much hurt and pain and suffering built up behind walls that were too thick and emotions that were too well guarded at times. He's a genius with an IQ higher than almost everyone at the Academy and a martyr complex to match. He's brave and kind and could shoot the shit with the best of them. He's aggressive and self-serving and hardheaded and didn't listen to orders Leonard ever gave him about his health. He's quick tempered about certain subjects and damn straight annoying on some days. He always has to be in the thick of the battle and he always needs to be a goddamn stupid dumbass and do something heroic like save someone or jump in front of phaser fire or leap off a drill with no shoot. He's a pain in the ass on some days and a pest every other day of the week.

Leonard shook his head nearing Jim's quarters.

Jim is... He's a handsome man. A pretty man if Leonard had ever seen one. His smile, when it hits his eyes, brightens the room - and that's the most stupid ass cliché Leonard can think of. He's bright when Leonard feels dark and happy when Leonard is sad. He makes Leonard feel... like he has a purpose. Like he's on this tin can death trap for a reason, even if that reason is saving Jim's ass every time he gets into a mess. Jim is the master of one night stands when he gets in the mood but also the best listener and caretaker when given the chance. Leonard wishes that the kid could just stop trying to impress people with his Devil-may-care attitude and open up, let everyone see the true Jim Kirk that he's been seeing ever since that drunk night at the academy on his Daddy's would've-been birthday.

After too many beers and way too many fingers of whiskey, Leonard had been a rambling, blubbering mess with snot dripping from his nose and hair greasy from running alcohol soaked hands through it. Jim had showed up at the bar, how he'd known Leonard would be there was anyone's guess. But he'd looked at Leonard with eyes that held no pity and no sadness but understanding.

"How about we get you home, Bones."

"I d'n't need a b'bysitter. I got a few m'shots left."

"We'll get them to go. How about that Bonsey?"

With that Leonard had felt himself being hauled to his feet and led outside. The brisk San Fransisco air had cleared his mind somewhat as Jim helped him walk back to their dorm. His head fell against the kid's shoulder, he was warm. Smelled nice. Like sunshine and some bourbon and maybe a little after shave.

"It's cologne actually, I was on a date."

"I killed my daddy, Jim."

"We've all done things we're not proud of, Leonard."

Leonard shook himself away from his thoughts as he stepped up to Jim's door and knocked. There weren't many crew member around at the time but those who were looked at him in the corners of their eyes trying to be discreet. He waited a minute after knocking to try to knock again.

Nothing.

Something didn't feel right. The pit of Leonard's stomach twisted in unease.

"Jim," he called through the door after knocking roughly again. "Open up kid."

Still nothing. No sound came through the door from movement inside. Leonard opened his mouth to try again but stopped as his comm sounded at his belt.

"Bridge to Dr. McCoy."

Leonard growled and grabbed for his comm. It was Spock's voice on the other end.

"McCoy here."

"You are needed in the Captain's ready room immediately."

Jim, Leonard thought. The bad feeling in his stomach intensified.

"On my way," he said as calmly as he could already running towards the turbo lift. He sprinted inside and closed the door with more aggressive button pushing than was necessary. He grabbed the emergency med kid he kept in one of the storage compartments just for such occasions and held it tight to his chest. Once the lift opened at the bridge he rushed out in the most professional manner he could manage. He looked around the bridge at the people manning their stations. Most of them looked at him, others had their heads down. Chekov had his head in his hands with Sulu's arms gently on his shoulder. Leonard quickened his pace to the ready room almost bursting through with his bag clutched and half opened. He was surprised when he opened the door to just see Spock sitting in one of the chairs around the large table in the middle of the room. His eyes scanned the space looking for Jim but he saw nothing.

"Doctor, have a seat," Spock said. It must've been Leonard's imagination because did Spock's voice just seem - sad?

Leonard sat down and the screen across the room lit up with the familiar face of Admiral Pike. He had a few more wrinkles creasing his face but his hair was neatly combed. His eyes looked wild however, with anger or saddness, Leonard wasn't sure.

A part of Leonard, the part that hadn't gone through three years at the academy and was a gruff old southern doctor to the bones wanted to snap and yell and demand to know what was going on. But the larger side of him, the one tamed by years of training and patience told him to wait. So he did.

Admiral Pike took a breath and leaned forward in his chair.

"McCoy, what is this I'm holding in my hand?" He held up a pad with a written document displayed, but Leonard couldn't see what it said.

"I'm not sure, Admiral Pike. What is it?" He crossed his arms and scowled at the Admiral keeping Spock in his peripheral vision.

"Let me read the first line - I, James Tiberius Kirk, hereby resign my commission as Captain of the Starship _Enterprise_."

Leonard sucked in a breath, his headache from before that had been dulled from adrenaline and the hypo flashed back in full force making him wince. A pad was slid in front of him by Spock with a copy of the document sent from Pike. Leonard looked it over with quick eyes scanning for anything that would say that this is a joke, that Jim didn't really just resign. But when he hit the bottom and his eyes ran over his best friends signature Leonard could feel his heart stop beating in his chest.

"Where is he?" Leonard's mouth was too dry, his head pounded. Pike was silent so Leonard whipped around to look at Spock.

"According to the ships logs the Captain - Jim - left the _Enterprise_ at four twenty-three this morning. He beamed over to the research vessel _Jefferson_ that is scheduled to arrive in earths atmosphere in the next week." Spock always prided himself on his ability to not show emotions. He was Vulcan, not human and he did everything in his power to suppress the deep emotions that swelled inside of him. The anger that Jim had left without even a comm, the sadness that now he lost one of the very few people he had considered a friend. The uncertainty because now he was in charge. Now he was the captain. It all bubbled inside of him threatening to burst forth from his carefully constructed walls.

"Commander Spock, it looks like you're the captain now," Pike said after clearing his throat.

Leonard growled. "You gotta be fucking kidding me. Jim's gone for two seconds and your already replacing him with this fucking hob-"

"Doctor," Spock broke through Leonard's rant with quick words. "I do not intend on being the Captain of this vessel nor do I intend to just simply let Jim leave with no explanation as to his mysterious departure."

Leonard stared at Spock with his mouth half opened and eyes large in disbelief.

"Furthermore I believe it is necessary to not only find where he has gone to but to, as you have said on so many occasions, slap him into gear."

"I didn't hear any of that," Pike's voice surprised Leonard so much he jumped, Spock's face remained impassive. They both turned to look at the Admiral. "But if I did I would say that I agree wholeheartedly that you should go and find out what happened. I'm ordering the Enterprise be sent back to earth on the grounds of repairs after the mission you are on now."

Leonard and Spock both nodded their thanks at the Admiral.

"Now go debrief your command team on the situation."

~o0o~

There was a small child sitting next to him on the shuttle from San Francisco to Riverside. The child was small with little teeth and brown hair lining his face all around. His eyes were a deep brown in all the ways Jim's were a crystal blue and shined when sunlight hit them in an almost unnatural way. The child had his head laid against the the back of his seat swaying back and forth as he slept fitfully. Every once in a while the child's head would fall against Jim's shoulder startling him from his own thoughts. The first few times Jim had moved the kid's head back against the headrest and continued to stare out the window. But after the fourth time Jim just said fuck it and let the kid lay on his shoulder. He only had be to eight or nine, with no parents on the shuttle with him and Jim was alone anyways feeling miserable and sick to his stomach, he supposed if he could help the kid in some way then to hell with it. Let the kid sleep.

Jim looked down at the boy with an exhausted gaze. It had been a week since he'd left the _Enterprise_ , his crew and... Bones. But it felt like longer. He'd turned off his comm unit the second he stepped foot on the Jefferson then buried it deep in his bag under all his clothes and meager belongings in a place where he would have to push everything aside and dump his bag if he wanted to get to it. Which he didn't.

He wasn't running away, he was protecting his people - his crew. The people he couldn't live without but now must live without. He was protecting Bones.

Bones...

The mental picture of his best friend with a gun to his head made Jim shiver even though he was wearing his leather jacket. The nightmares hadn't stopped, he doubted they ever would. Guns and knives and phasers and death and killing themselves and -

"Why do you look sad?" A voice said from somewhere beside Jim. Jim took his head off the window and shook it while closing his eyes. He was surprised to feel wetness dampen his eyes from unshed tears. He blinked hard trying to dispel them. Jim looked down at the boy who was now wide awake and gazing at him with brown eyes and messy hair. He cleared his throat and said, "I lost something important to me."

It was true. So very, very true that it made his heart burn.

"Was it something you loved?" The boy asked innocently.

Jim licked his lips wanting nothing more than to jump out the window. Instead he settled for just turning away from the boy and saying softly, "Yes."

The kid was silent for a few minutes, "Did you lose someone?"

Jim turned back to the boy and in the same way he spoke to the transporter technician he said, "I think that's enough questions." And turned back to the window his eyes cloudy and heart aching. It's wasn't just the fact that he no longer had his ship but knowing that he's the one who walked away. To save the people he loves he had to walk away. A no win scenario.

"I lost my mom. She died and now I'm going to live with my dad. My mom always said dad was a farmer and you don't see a lot of farmers anymore do you? Mom said he was a good guy and would take care of me but I've never met my dad before. Mom said he's tall with hair like mine and eyes like mine."

Jim looked down at the kid to see him staring straight up at him. His eyes were large and brown like almonds with specks of green. A shiver ran over Jim's arms as he thought of Bones's eyes. Green and brown with specks of black and sometimes gold all meshed around each other in his irises. It was a place like this, in a shuttle to San Francisco that Jim had met Bones for the first time. Him hungover and still covered in blood from the night before and Bones unshaven and sleep deprived yelling about how he didn't want to die in a thing that flys and how all he's got left is his Bones.

"My mom died on a Starship." The boy said sadly. Jim scratched at nose and turned away from the boy not trusting himself to keep his emotions in check.

"... My dad died on a starship too."

~o0o~

When the shuttle had finally landed and Jim managed to get himself back under control he followed the boy - Tyler, he said his name was during one of his many rambles. He helped the kid out of his seat and grabbed his bag for him. Tyler continued to talk about his dad and how he planted wheat in his fields like the farms from the twentieth century. Jim nodded at all the right moments and smiled when the kid tried to joke. He'd only known the kid for a few hours but he could see the pain behind his eyes. The way he talked and talked and talked about his mom like she was still alive. Jim saw himself inside the young boy. Angry and bitter but plastering a smile on his face and faking it to stop the questions.

"Let's go find your dad, kid," he said kid the same way Bones used to talk to him. It almost felt nice, nostalgic to be the one calling instead of the one being called.

When they got off the shuttle, him with his hat and sunglasses firmly in place and the kid quiet with nerves, Jim walked Tyler towards a group of people that were still a ways away when Tyler grabbed at Jim's sleeve and pulled him forward.

"I see him," he almost yelled. Jim gave the boy a small smile. He stopped walking when the boy sped up. Tyler walked a few feet before feeling the absence of Jim next to him. He turned and looked back and waved. Jim smiled at the innocence of it all. At this small boy, so happy waving hard just a few feet away from him.

"Goodbye Captain Kirk," Tyler yelled.

The smile on Jim's face melted slowly off. Dred filled his heart.

~o0o~

There was no one at the shipyard to pick him up to take home, but Jim wasn't surprised. His mother was still in the middle of a four year science exploration tour and Frank well, Frank wouldn't come pick him up even if he'd asked him to, which he didn't. So he hiked his bag back up on his shoulder and got a ride in a taxi. He didn't give his name but he gave his address to the man driving. The man drove in silence all the way to Jim's old house then stopped in front of the driveway. Jim pulled out his credit chip but the man waved him off when he asked how much. Jim persisted however, he wasn't about to get charity. But the man frowned at him and shook his head hard then pointed out of the car. Jim finally relented angrily and grabbed his bag then got out the car. It pulled away before him could try again to give him the cab fare.

Jim closed his eyes feeling the hot sun on his face and breeze rustle his jacket and jeans. He took a deep breath to steady himself then took a step towards his house. The house that he hadn't been back to in too many years.

Every step he took broke his heart a little more and a little more and a little more. It felt like walking on the hard stones and gravel on Tarsus with no shoes and bloodied feet. Like dragging his feet while holding tight to an injured ensign to the beam out point. It hurt, excruciating heartbreak.

Jim opened the door before he could think better of it and stepped inside the same house he'd tryed to run away from countless times in his young wild youth. He noticed his hands shook as he closed the door. Jim cursed at himself.

"What are you doin' here?" A gruff voice said suddenly from where he remembered the kitchen being. Jim jumped thinking back on all the times that voice had screamed at him, yelled at him. The arms and hands and feet that had beat him when he was younger and thought that this was what should happen, that it was okay to hurt him when he was being bad or annoying.

"I told you I was coming," Jim snapped back mentally shaking himself. He swallowed thickly as Frank came around the corner in a ratty flannel shirt and jeans dirty with mud from the fields around their farmhouse.

Frank sniffed then rubbed at his nose and stumbled chin with grimy fingers. "No you didn't."

Jim said nothing choosing instead to reach down to start untying his boots trying to ignore the fact that the man who had caused him constant pain in his childhood and who he though he had left to never see again, was back. Or, he was back. In the house he hated so much.

"Did you being any of your fag friends back this time?"

Jim didn't answer, he stared at the ground more defeated then ever before.

This... This was his life now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is called Who Are You When I'm Not Looking by Blake Shelton. 
> 
> I hope you are enjoying my first attempt at writing Star Trek so far!! :)


	5. The Brigade of One

The house creeks and cracks and shifts at night and in the early hours of the day. It doesn't hum or whirl like his ship used to do when he laid down for the sleep cycle they called night time. Air sweeps in through the sides of the old house from poor insulation and lack of upkeep on this side of the house. The way it creaks and tremors every once in a while makes Jim jerk in surprise before settling back down and staring at the stained ceiling. It's cold in his room, the wind puncturing his wall on one side and forcing its way through. Jim lays under his blankets cocooned in the quilt he used to quiver under when he was younger. The one he'd used as a shield when he had come back from Tarsus and didn't want to face the world. The quilt was warn but not threadbare, it could still keep him warm when the night air swept into his room.

Jim closed his eyes slowly trying to force sleep to take him. It never used to be this hard to turn his brain off, to silence the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He used to have it down to a science where he'd just shut down, force his mind not to think. It's how he'd survived the time after Tarsus or when Frank got smashed and came home rip roaring drunk. He would imagine his body being encased with warm lava that didn't burn but slowed him down creeping down each and every vein and slithering from toes to fingers until it reached his forehead.

At first he'd tried thinking of himself falling down into darkness slowly, letting the cool depths sooth away any lingering pain or pressing matters. But then the Narada happened and a slow decent became a plummet and darkness became the surface of Vulcan and Jim would gasp, jerking up with a heart beating too fast and a body covered in sweat, shaking and grabbing out for Sulu because no, no he couldn't let him die. He would not let this man die. No…  _No._

Enterprise _._ Enterprise _. Where are you?_ Enterprise _...? Please!_

Jim bucks up hard enough to shake the bed. His heart pounds roughly as sweat beads his face. He hadn't realized he'd actually managed to doze off. Turning his head, Jim looks at the chrono beside his bed with blurry eyes. It reads  _6:37am_  and Jim just stares thinking of how he'd only managed to close his eyes an hour ago.

Sighing deeply, Jim rubs at his eyes wishing that he could get back to sleep but at the same time praying he doesn't. It's been like this since he got off the  _Jefferson_. Every time he closes his eyes he sees something, has a nightmare that forces his eyes open or makes him want to throw up.

It had been almost three weeks since he had left the  _Enterprise_  and his friends. Three weeks of solitude only briefly broken by yelling matches with Frank over stupid things. Although Jim had yet the see the man stumbling around the house drunk as he used to before he left for Starfleet Jim is still weary of him. Jim just shifts around the house quietly, when he thinks the older man isn't home or knows he is out in the fields working. The farm wasn't just something pretty to look at after all, it was actual working land.

Jim only leaves his room when he needs to and even then he's quiet, using light steps almost like he didn't want to disturb the sleeping ghosts that hide in the darkest corners of the old farmhouse.

The times he has needed to go down the creaky steps and towards the kitchen were tense and awkward. Three times Frank had been sitting at the table reading the paper or smoking a cigarette and twice Jim dared to comment on smoking inside the house. It was such a barbaric thing mostly eradicated after the late 2050's but most importantly it messed with Jim's allergies. The smoke choked his lungs, made his tongue swell to the point that it made it hard to breathe or close his mouth. His many allergies had always been bad but after... after Tarsus his already messed up body went crazy creating new things he was allergic to and rejected with vigor.

After grumbling to himself about the cigarette smoldering between Franks thick fingers the man had thrown it across the room and yelled. Jim had easily dodged the offensive thing and didn't say anything else. That was a week and a half ago, that was also the last time Jim actually had something sustainable to eat. For the first few days his stomach had growled and protested but then it had stopped. He wasn't hungry anymore.

His days were spent either in his room or out in the barn. He did anything he could to stay away from Frank. He had to be here and if Frank kicked him out them. Well, he didn't have anywhere else to go.

The thought had crossed his mind when he sat on his bunk on the  _USS_   _Jefferson_  on the way to earth that he could go anywhere he wanted to, do anything he wanted to do. All the places he'd ever want to travel were open for him to explore. But with what money? Where would he go? And the last thought that always crossed Jim's mind was the simple fact that there was no place on earth he wanted to go. All the places he wanted to explore involved a shiny ship, a loyal crew and a less than enthusiastic chief medical officer.

San Francisco was where his 'Fleet supplied apartment was but he didn't want to go there. Too many memories, too big a chance for someone he knew to come knocking on his door asking questions he couldn't answer. He also didn't have many credits. When he's become Captain he'd signed the PADD that entitled him to only receive his credits at the end of every tour with the only deviation being if he requested to have a small amount put on a chip for an upcoming shore leave. Jim had made it this way so that he wouldn't have to deal with the credits until he was back on earth. Most away missions were diplomatic anyway, he didn't have much need for credit chips to be laying around his quarters or stuffed in his pocket where he would most likely lose them. Jim had always been bad at that, losing the chips that were in his pocket. The small rectangles attached to his bank account just had a way of slipping from his pants pocket without warning.

He'd left the  _Enterprise_  with nothing other than a duffle bag and a broken heart. The money he did have would've been locked down tight as soon as they'd received his resignation. It would not be touched until he contacted Starfleet headquarters himself and told them where to forward the money to. When Jim had gotten off of the  _Jefferson_  that had been last thing he'd wanted to do. With how bad his odds normally were Jim would go to comm HQ and somehow end up getting into direct contact with Admiral Pike.

Jim shuttered thinking of Pike's face, how disappointed he most likely is right now. How confused he is because why? It would've made no sense for Jim to have fought so hard for the  _Enterprise_  to just get up and leave. Resigning not only from being a Captain but also all of Starfleet.

_"Four years? I'll do it in three."_

So cocky, so on top of the world. So confident that there was nothing he couldn't do and no one he couldn't beat. There was no such thing as a no win scenario. But that was before all this. Before Bones and evil aliens with names he could barely pronounce. That was before he knew how it felt to have someone care for him not because they had to or because he was thrust upon them and they were told to take care of him but someone who cared for him without anything in return. It was strange, Jim had often thought, the way Bones would groan and mumble and curse Jim seven ways from Sunday every time he came back to their dorm stumbling drunk or bleeding. He would stare at him for only a second before grabbing his personal medkit from under his bed and fixing Jim up the best he could.

The first time Bones had fixed up a broken part of his body had been after a bar brawl gone bad. Jim had tried to hide his obviously broken wrist as he slithered into their shared dorm room well after any normal person would be asleep. He had almost made it to his welcoming bed intent on just sleeping everything off and dealing with it in the morning like he had been doing when Bones said his name making him jump then hiss as he accidently jarred his arm. Hearing Jim's distress Bones had gotten up out of bed and ordered him to sit at their small table. The older man had been hesitant, as if he didn't want to touch Jim too roughly or handle him the wrong way with prodding fingers. After a few minutes of the older man using too gentle fingers on his wrist that was three sizes too big Jim had snapped still a little drunk but now that he was off the high of the fight he could feel every ache and pain radiate and pulse through his abused body.

"What the fuck man just fix it and let's get to bed."

Bones – Leonard as he insisted to be called even though they had been roommates for a semester already he still refused his nickname – was startled by the hot tempered voice and ended up dropping Jim's hand to the table. Jim tried to bite back a yelp but failed miserably.

"I'm sorry-I... I just haven't..." The man turned away pretending to look at the tools in his medkit with eyes that had suddenly become misty. Jim sobered immediately realizing the look in Bones' eyes as the one his mother often held.

"What is it?" He asked lightly not sure he wanted an answer.

"Nothing." Was the quick and automatic reply but Jim wouldn't let Bones off the hook that easily. They didn't call him James T. Pain-In-The-Ass Kirk for nothing.

Jim reached forward without hesitation and placed his hand on his friend's arm lightly.

"Leonard," he said surprising the man so much he flicked his head to him. "What's wrong?"

Bones licked his lip then ran a shaking hand through his messy bed head hair. He spoke quietly, "I don't usually work on people I care about, Jim. I never... Not after my Daddy..."

Staying quiet Jim's eyes never left Bones' and in turn Bones didn't turn away for a long moment. When he finally did was when he spoke again.

"I killed my Daddy, Jim."

Normal people would have jerked away, stood up, demanded him to explain or backed away like he was a murderer. But Jim wasn't most people. He too had seen death and he had felt the blood of another's on his hands dry and flake away in patches. He too had demons and skeletons in his closet but this wasn't his time, it was Bones' time. So Jim just sat in silence and listened.

Bones spoke fast and quietly all the while going through the motions of fixing Jim's wrist. He told a story of an older man stricken by illness slowly rotting away in a too white hospital room. He told of a younger man who had gone through medical school and had his own practice and for all intents and purposes should have been able to stop the spread of the disease before it claimed the man. But it was no so and every day that young man, that  _son_  had to watch his father get thinner and sicker until the man told him it was okay. He said that he didn't want to put his Mamma or him through this anymore. He said that he had found peace and that it was okay...

_It is okay Leonard._

And a few days later that man's life support was shut down and surrounded by his son and old wife he slipped away peacefully into an unknown.

It was only three months later a cure was found and three months and one day after the son helped kill his father that son turned to the bottle and vowed never to touch anyone he cared for with the hands the murdered the father he loved.

When Bones had finished his story he was in tears but not sobbing as Jim would have expected any lesser man would have been. Jim just nodded showing that he had heard yet didn't say anything just yet. He treated the man, the son, as he would want to be treated if he ever told his sort of Tarsus IV. After a silence that stretched just long enough Jim finally said softly.

"I trust you Bones. I trust you."

Bones just stared at him before his head fell into his hands and he cried in what must have been the first time. Jim stood up and came around the table until he was in front of Bones then he got down on his knee and hugged the man in every way he wished his mother would have hugged him when he cried.

It was then that Jim realized something. Bones cared for him and he wasn't used to that. He didn't need to show off his body or sleep with him or offer any favors. All he did was listen to the man and care for him. Jim's heart warmed at the thought of actually having someone who cared for him. Of actually having a friend...

Tears stung at Jim's eyes but he bit them back. No more crying. It didn't matter that he had left all of the people he had ever been friends with back on his beautiful ship. It didn't matter that everything he had fought so hard for and loved was still exploring through space, the great unknown, without him. What mattered was that they were safe. They were safe if he wasn't there. Bones was safe without him there. Everyone was safe without him there. They had probably already promoted Spock to Captain and Sulu to First Officer, Jim knew that man would get his own ship one day and this was just helping him get it faster.

Everything was fine. Everyone was happy.

Everyone but Jim…

Jim shook his head and stood from his bed. It didn't matter if he wasn't happy, all that mattered was his crew, his friends.

Jim walked to his bathroom shedding his clothes as he did. He felt numb and he watched as his hand turned on the shower and his feet stepped under the water without his mind really understanding what was going on. He took a long time in the shower, more time than he had ever taken actually. After a while his knees started to tremble and he felt himself falling against the slick side of the shower wall. Almost like it was in slow motion Jim could feel himself being lowered to the wet ground of the shower. He let the water wash over his body until the heat ran out and he was left sitting under the cold spray shivering but not wanting to get out. His hands were shaking hard by the time the water finally shut off and from far away a deep voice was yelling but Jim couldn't understand it. It sounded like Frank and an unconscious part of Jim told him he should be scared but he wasn't. He was numb.

So he sat there, shivering, freezing and he couldn't understand why he couldn't move his body but he honestly didn't care.

His crew didn't need him. They were fine without him.

From somewhere there was a banging as if someone was right at his bathroom door but… but that wasn't right. It couldn't have been right. No one wanted Jim here so there couldn't have been anyone wanting to get his attention because no one cared about him, not here, not anywhere. The ghosts don't even care about him here in this damning farmhouse that never really was his home.

His stomach growled but Jim ignored it just like he had been doing for two weeks. His stomach begged him to eat by the way it felt like monsters were kicking his insides but his mind told him he wasn't hungry, so he didn't eat.

Jim sat staring at the wall but not seeing it. Again there was a violent banging from the bathroom door but Jim barely heard it. The edges of his vision were going dark as his body shook and shivered.

_"_ _You do what I say or I kill your best friend."_

That voice was Bones but everything about it was wrong and it made Jim's heart clench until it hurt. He could feel his heart beating,  _pounding_ , in his chest but he didn't care. A heartbeat meant he was still alive but maybe… maybe he didn't want to be. What could he do now? He had no ship, no commission, no friends, no… Bones. There was no one who cared for him and he was nothing. Nothing.

_"_ _My dad died on a starship…"_

Jim couldn't breathe but he didn't care. He couldn't drag any breath into his body but what was the point? He was nothing now. He had nothing.

_"_ _Goodbye Captain Kirk!"_

The pounding on the door finally stopped and Jim felt relieved. Distantly he heard the sound of someone forcing their way into the small room. The door crashed open with old pieces of wood splintering off to the sides. Someone walked briskly over to him with a red face and dirty hands as if theyhad been working out in the fields. A face came into Jim's swimming vision. The face was angry and making loud sounds that Jim couldn't understand. The man, for it was a man with a hard face who looked so familiar but Jim couldn't place him put a hand on his wet shoulder and Jim realized he was still naked, but he didn't care. His body hurt, he could feel himself shaking.

Frank. It was Frank that leaned over him, Jim's muddy mind supplied but that couldn't be right. The man – Frank? – looked frightened and Frank never looked frightened.

The last thing Jim saw before he succumbed to the darkness pulling at him was the man pulling out a comm from his pocket and hurriedly dialing a number as he leaned over Jim's trembling body.

Then everything went black and he felt peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to post, school and finals and real life has a way of getting in the way. Hope you enjoyed this update, there will be more to come.


	6. Give Me Shelter

The Bridge of the USS Enterprise was always beautiful. It was beautiful the first time James T. Kirk laid his eyes upon it when it'd been brand new and shining with luster. The light reflected just right off of the polished silver and sleek red.

Breathtaking.

The Bridge was beautiful even when the ship had gotten too close to Sigma Delta IIV and was getting sucked into the planet's gravity. Jim had ordered thrusters on full, trying his damndest to get away from that planet that was sucking them in. Huge chunks had come crashing down from the ceiling and cracks wide enough to put an arm through clashed through the side walls. Breaking glass could be heard as the view screen took a beating from the warring gravity fields and backwards thrusters. It was even worse than when his beautiful ship had been caught in the pull from the black hole of the Narada.

It took only minutes, but it felt like hours, to get out of the pull of the planet's gravity. When they finally were free from the sucking gravity and were limping back to find shelter at the nearest star base, Jim had looked at his battered Bridge and still thought it was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. Breathtaking and grand. A true sight to see as his dutiful crew worked around him and stations from all around the ship called up to the Bridge with status reports mixed with damage warnings and casualty explanations.

Space was, as Bones had once said, disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence and maybe that was true but it was also beautiful, oh so beautiful. His ship sweeping across the stars passing planets both known and not was inspiring. Watching the stars pass by in blurbs was alluring in ways Jim had only dreamed.

So amazing.

His eyes brimmed with tears as he sat looking at his empty Bridge. The stars came and went as the  _Enterprise_  flew past them. The view screen had already been programed to see the galaxy around the ship so Jim just sat back and watched. It should have bothered him that there was no one around him, there was no sound of other crewmen working at their stations like there normally was. This should have concerned him, the fact that he was all alone on his ship, but it didn't. The sounds of beeps and chirps of the equipment calmed him in ways he hadn't felt in weeks, years even.

 _Beep, beep, beep,_  the equipment sounded making him smile to himself. He felt so at peace that he didn't even feel the tears making tracks down his face. Jim thought he was forgetting something, felt like there was something he needed to do but he couldn't think of anything at the moment. Nothing mattered because he was finally back on his ship and it was breathtaking and beautiful and alluring and nothing mattered. Nothing at all.

_Beep, beep, beep._

There were shadows around Jim's pliant form that he ignored them. There was no use worrying, he knew he was alone on his ship. His ship, the USS  _Enterprise_ , was a fortress, a castle, no one could get on his ship. No one could harm him or hurt him here. Here he was safe.

_Beep, beep, beep._

The Bridge started to shake and when it did Jim gasped loudly. Pain erupted in his chest and he coughed hard trying to distill the junk clogging his throat. He coughed once, then twice but nothing happened. He tried to gasp in another breath but nothing, he couldn't breathe. Someone, maybe it was him, made an awful sound in the back of his throat. He was choking, he couldn't breathe!

Suddenly Jim wished he wasn't so alone as he fell forward off of his chair and onto all fours on the pristine ground of his beautiful ship. He grabbed at his throat wishing, praying that someone would show up. He wanted someone to rush to him and help him, save him! Like Bones, Bones always saved him, always… always. But not now. Not now because he was alone. Alone. He was going to die and he was alone.

_Beep, beep, beep._

He was always alone.

Why was he always alone?

***

With a gasp that felt loud and hard to him but was probably inaudible to anyone else, Jim opened his eyes with a snap. With saucer-like eyes he looked around the room he was in with panic rising in his burning chest.  Jim could see that he was in a hospital room with tubes coming out of his arms and a larger tube protruding from his burning belly. He doubled over, or tried to with the wires and lines doing a good job of keeping him in place, to cough. His stomach and throat burned. His mouth felt like someone had grated his tongue and cheeks with sandpaper. His eyes dropped on their own accord but Jim was having none of it. He needed to stay awake. He needed to get out of here and go… but where would he go? Home to Frank who hated him with every fiber of his being? Home to the  _Enterprise_  where some deranged alien would hurt the people he cared about if he even got in a thousand kilometer radius of his ship? Where would he go?

Panic seized his chest as someone with strange looking, tanned hands grabbed his shoulders and forced his panicking hands away from the tube going into his stomach. Jim whipped his head around, his heartbeat going fast and a smile forming on his face when the tanned hand that looked so much like the man he loved, the hand that couldn't belong to anyone else but the man who he never told he loved. The man who had been his best friend for so many years. Bones –

Frank. It was Frank next to him with tanned hands and a scared expression on his face. Tears collected and spilled over Jim eyes as he looked at the man next to him. Jim wished the man would leave him alone for once. He didn't want to be beaten again like when he was younger. He didn't understand why Frank was in the hospital with him when he was the one who so frequently put him in here in his teen years, back when he couldn't defend himself.

Jim stared at the man with fear in his eyes. Frank looked back at him before he mumbled then reached just out of Jim's view to grab a cup of something. He brought the cup close to Jim's lips but Jim jerked away, scared of what Frank was doing.

"It's just ice chips," Frank said in a surprisingly soft voice, one Jim had only ever heard him use with Winona on sparse occasions. Then he dipped the cup over so Jim could see that yes, it really was just small chips of ice crunched in the paper cup. Frank brought the cup back up to Jim's mouth where Jim parted his lips somewhat to let some of the chips fall onto his dry tongue. When the cold wetness touched his tongue he almost moaned in delight, but he didn't. He was still on his guard, he didn't understand what Frank was playing at. He didn't understand the game.

More chips hit his tongue until Frank took the cup away and Jim whimpered involuntarily.

"That's all I can give ya fer now, Jimmy. I'm sorry." Jim's eyes widened even more, if that was even possible. He didn't think he had ever heard Frank utter those two words in the same sentence together.

 _I'm sorry._  

He didn't even think Frank knew those two words.

Jim looked at his step father as the older man sat back in the hospital issued chair. He looked tired with circles under his eyes. His hair was in disarray and he didn't look like he had taken a proper shower in a few days but he didn't look altogether terrible. He was tanned in all the ways a man who spent most of his time working long hours on a farm should be and his shirt looked clean. He also didn't smell of alcohol like Jim could remember so much from his childhood.

Jim didn't understand what was going on, the last thing he could remember was getting ready to take a shower in his room, but that must have been days ago by the way the monitors beeping around him and the tubes connecting him looked. Jim opened his mouth to ask the older man what the hell was going on but nothing came out of his dry throat. Frank, seeing Jim struggling, sat forward in his chair. He roughly ran his fingers through his hair. He took a deep breath seeming to collect himself before he looked back up at Jim and placed his hands on his knees.

"You, uh," He stuttered before swallowing and beginning again. "Well, when I heard the shower running for so long I figured you'd just left it runnin' so I turned the water off and uh..." Jim had never seen Frank like this. Stuttering and nervous. He could remember Frank spitting angry and stumbling drunk but never stuttering to get his words out like he was right now.

"I heard a crash and uh, look boy – uh, I mean Jim, look Jim, I'm tryin' ta, ya know, get better. I didn't always,  _wasn't_  always like you knew me and after ya left it was just me and the farm and Winona never called and… it don't really matter now but I jus' ... I'm tryin' ta get better Jim." He finished meeting Jim's eye. "I am. I wasn't the man your Ma married when you were a boy an I wanna change that. I've been trying to change that."

Jim just stared at the man with large, round, unbelieving eyes that were still glossed over.

Frank, not expecting an answer licked his lips and clasped his hands. "Look. I ain't gonna say that the things I did when you was little was good or nothing, it wasn't, it was horrible. The things I did to you and your older brother were awful but when he ran off and you ran off and Winona told me ta just take care of the farm I had a lotta' time to think." He was rambling now, Jim knew but he let him because this was something that needed to be heard and said by both men. "I went to talk to some people, good people, an I still talk to 'em. They're helpin' me get better. I go to AA meetings every Wednesday an… an I just want you to know you can stay at the house as long as you need to." He finished flicking a stray tear from the side of his face.

Jim was struck dumb as he stared at the man who had hurt him and yelled at him and beaten him when he was younger. He didn't understand what was happening but he could see the sadness in Frank's eyes. He could see the pain and the pleading for forgiveness.

A part of Jim wanted to scream and curse at the man because no, no, no, so many years couldn't just be forgotten so easily. So many years of screaming at each other and cursing everything that moves and doesn't move couldn't be just swept under the rug to carelessly. There needed to be more yelling and more screaming and doors needed to be slamming and people needed to be crying to solve this abuse he had faced for so much of his life.

Jim's head tilted to the side looking at the man, Frank, really looking at him. He hadn't seen Frank in years. He wasn't the same big headed teenager anymore who thought he was invincible. He was battle hardened and trained to be a leader. He was the Captain of a star ship for God's sakes, or at least he was. It felt like so long ago this man had gotten trashed and beat on him. But things were different now and maybe it was time to bury the hatchet. Not to forget about it because no, there was no forgetting about black eyes and torn skin, but maybe it was time to move on.

Maybe Jim was just on the really good drugs or maybe he really was considering this.

Frank ran his hands through his messy hair again making it stick up at strange angles all across his head. His hair seemed greasy from his oily fingers running through the strands. "You don't have to accept my apology and I'm not gonna ask why you came back to the Farm an quitin' Starfleet without telling anyone."

Jim snapped his eyes up to look at Frank, his mouth opened but the man cut him off. "Pike called a few days ago." Panic again seized Jim's chest. His mouth garbled and squeaked but nothing came out, his voice didn't work. The monitors above his head started beeping louder and faster along with his heartbeat. Frank lunged forward to put a warm hand on Jim's shoulder, Jim was surprised when he didn't involuntarily pull away.

"Calm down, Jim, I didn't say anything. He called and begged to know what was going on but all I said was that you were sick and he said he was coming and I told him not to. I said that if you wanted to see him you'd call him and ask him to come." Jim felt a wave of gratitude wash over him as Frank eased him back down to the hospital bed.

"I don't know what happened but I guess you left for a good reason, everyone on earth knows how much you love that ship of yours."

At that Jim nodded feeling exhaustion seep into his bones and force his eyes to sag. Frank opened his mouth to speak again then stopped when he saw Jim's eyes begin to close. "Don't worry, Jimmy, I promise to take care of you until you get better then you and I can sit down and talk about all this." Then he nodded and sat back.

Jim cleared his throat once, then twice, then he waited a second before he was sure his voice would work before he opened his mouth to speak.

"Thank you."

And for the first time in weeks, he didn't feel alone.


	7. The Runner

The rest of Jim's hospital stay was a relatively silent affair after Frank's confession and really, what could compare to the man who had been the monster under his bed even well into adulthood finally apologizing to him and asking for his forgiveness? It was weird. Just... Weird. Since the moment he had stepped into his room on the Enterprise all those weeks ago to find that alien speaking with Bones's voice everything had been weird.

The hospital had kept him for four days before telling him he could be released when his vitals came up and stayed at acceptable levels. While he still looked too skinny they had no medical reason to keep him longer even though they insisted persistently that he stay. Jim wanted to get out of there as fast as he could. He had begged his doctor to keep his name off of any official files and away from public domains. He didn't want Starfleet finding out not only where he was but also that he had gotten himself in trouble. Again. And he was in the hospital. Again. He didn't want his name to flash across the screen and people to come looking for him. He couldn't deal with that.

A few times Jim had been forced to do a double take thinking that the doctor who walked into his room was Bones and he was back on his ship sailing off into the unknown that was the final frontier. But it never was. Jim wasn't sure if he was glad it wasn't his bed friend or not. While the numbness that he had felt for the last few weeks had begun to dissipate somewhat there were still times, hours late in the night or early in the morning when a wall of sadness and depression would slam into him and he'd curl on his side wanting to hide from everything. Wanting to fall into the dark hole inside of himself and sink, sink,  _sink_  down until he was so far away he couldn't feel anything at all.

It almost wasn't fair. He had finally found a place that was his – his ship. He'd had a group of friends who liked him, admired him, respected him even. He had a family who loved him and Sha'Thrill had taken it away. Ripped away that happiness and the home he had built for himself. But even with all his anger Jim didn't think he had done the wrong thing, no. Never. He would never risk the lives of the people he loved by staying on the ship while the alien held a gun to Bones's head.

But oh, how he had wanted to. Wanted to stay with the people he loved and who loved him.

Jim Kirk wasn't a man who loved. He was broken in ways he would never admit to even himself. He had loved before, given his heart so fully and it had snapped back at him hard. Slicing his heart in two and leaving him running. He wasn't a lover, he was a runner.

\--

Her name was Lynn and she was beautiful. Brown hair, blue eyes and skin brushed with freckles that collected together to form a soft tan across her otherwise blush red cheeks. She was beautiful with her hair and her eyes and her forget-me-not hips that swayed with each step and with the tune of any dance. Her laugh was like bells and freedom and space and second chances. She was everything but at the same time she was nothing. Her black heart was her Achilles heel. But Jim loved her. He truly did. Before he realized that he preferred more muscles and harder skin with different equipment than a woman's, he loved her.

She was his light when he'd come home from Tarsus. While everyone else was scared of him she wasn't. She took his screaming and his tantrums and his tears with all the finesse of a girl beyond her years. He hid at her house sometimes when Frank was being nasty or he just couldn't run away from his demons anymore. She was his saving grace in a time when he was walking through the pits of Hell determined to destroy anything and everything.

They didn't fall into bed together until he was sixteen and she was nineteen and that in itself should have spurred the red flags in anyone's head but Jim didn't care. He just wanted to fuck and curse and be loved and Lynn could give him that. He never used protection, it didn't matter. He couldn't have kids anyways so fuck it. Lynn didn't question it, never questioned it.

It was the first time he felt himself fall for someone but it wouldn't last. Nothing ever did.

Jim had been good. Didn't sleep around. Stopped using the drugs that made him able to get through the day. He had a good job working at a HoloCar repair shop just outside Riverside – having already flipped the bird to all of the teachers and administrators at that stupid high school and walking out. He loved Lynn with all he had even though it may not have been much. He still lived at home but ever since he'd finally fought back everything had calmed down some. He'd slammed Frank back against the wall and screamed harder than he'd ever screamed at anyone and pulled his hand back to punch him like he'd punched the guard who had tried to rape one of his kids on Tarsus. But he'd stopped himself from impaling his hand into Frank's ugly face by deflecting his power into the wall just left of the man's head. His hand had slammed through the wood and the plaster and stayed there until Jim had jerked it out. Broken bone and split fingers all. Frank must have seen something in Jim's eyes because he didn't retaliate, didn't even move.

That was the last time Frank hit him.

So Jim was good. Sure he had a shitty life set out for himself but he had some prospects looking up for him. A job, half an education, a roof over his head with a man who didn't beat on him and a girl he loved with all the love he had in heart. Which wasn't much but it was still there.

Lynn had called him up one day so happy and laughing she was in tears. She told him to come over. "Come now Jim, please you have to Jim. Fuck, Jim just get here please."

So Jim asked no questions just drove down the dirt roads and past speed limit signs that he was breaking just so he could get to Lynn, the girl who loved him and who he loved for years and years. The love of his life.

He'd gotten off his bike and ran into her home where she was practically jumping, hopping up and down in the kitchen. He ran up her all breathless and heart beating fast. She had looked away biting her lip holding back a smile before reaching behind her back and pulling out a slim, white tube. She held it then slipped it over and Jim realized it was a pregnancy test and his heart sank. She giggled then turned it again showing him a positive result.

"Positive. We're having a baby, Jim."

Jim had licked his lips feeling the anger and hatred that he hadn't felt in years rear its head again. Consume him.

"Who?" He'd demanded staring Lynn in the eyes. His fierce ice no match for her cheating blue. "Whose is it?"

"What..?" At least, Jim can admit now, Lynn had had the decency to look confused. Hurt even. "It's yours honey why wouldn't it be. It's your baby Jim. I love yo-"

"No," Jim had said so plainly, so clearly as if this was any other day and Lynn had just asked him if he wanted sugar with his morning coffee. "I can't have children, Lynn."

It wasn't the first thing he'd been told after they rescued him from Tarsus IV but it was something. After all, a symptom of prolonged malnutrition was reduced fertility, or in Jim's case – complete destruction of his active sperm. He couldn't have children. Ever. His sperm were dead before they left his body, or however the fuck it worked. It was impossible, Jim knew – he was sure of it. He'd checked and tried and tried all different kinds of pills and hypos, even illegal shit that made him sick for days or made him his stomach swell and face grow beat red until the doctors just shook their heads when they saw him and turned him away with an  _I'm sorry, please don't come back_  on their lips.

Lynn had sputtered, her smile gone as recollection dawned on her. That's when Jim turned around and walked out the front door. He didn't turn around when Lynn had yelled after him begging for forgiveness and pleading with him to stay. He didn't turn around when he'd mounted his bike and she screamed that she'd made a mistake but she loved him. So much, she loved him. He didn't turned around when he left her house or when he passed the 'You Are Now Leaving Riverside Iowa, Home of the Kelvin Memorial Shipyard' sign. He didn't turn around even when he passed the 'You Are Now Leaving Iowa' holoscreen. He never turned around because there was nothing left for him there. He needed to leave, to ditch the life he'd had for another.

It want until four years later that he finally stopped running. It was when he'd already hit rock bottom and could go no farther that he'd turned around. He had nothing but strength and experience and knowledge but it was time to go back to Riverside. If nothing else he wanted his father's things from his old room – that is, if Frank hadn't sold the whole damn property yet.

He'd come home just in time to be slammed into a bar table and dared to do better by the man who had claimed to know his father. And he'd taken him up on the dare. He'd do it because he needed to stop running. He did it because he needed to find his purpose. He did it because James T. Kirk never walked away from a dare.

He found out later that Lynn had birthed a boy she named Jack. He was brown eyed with red hair with a round chin and small mouth. No trace of Jim anywhere in any features. Lynn had married a man who she had graduated Riverside High School with named Wren. Their wedding was a small affair but their picture had appeared in the paper and stared straight at Jim. Lynn's white dress was perfect, her beautiful hair pulled back and too much makeup covering up her freckles. Wrens' read hair and round face stuck out like a sore thumb on the otherwise black and white newspaper article. Jim had looked at the articles, skimmed the section then threw away the paper feeling nothing.

\--

"I brought you some clothes," a voice said tentatively from the door to Jim's hospital room. It was Frank with a bundle clutched tight in his hands and a sheepish look on his face. Jim shook himself and rubbed at his eyes not realizing he had fallen asleep. "I signed the papers and you're free to go whenever you're ready."

Jim looked at the man and nodded signaling him into the room. Frank walked in and sat in the chair he had occupied for the majority of Jim's hospital stay. He handed the clothes to Jim who thanked him silently then went into the bathroom to change out of his hospital shirt and baggy pants. He deliberately did not look at himself in the mirror as he slowly put on his shirt and pants. The clothes were actually new, Frank must have just bought them if the nice smell and tags were anything to go by.

Their relationship, while still strained, was improving. Frank told him about his AA meetings and talked animatedly of his sponsor who lived in the next town over who helped him during the worst of his addiction, when his hands itched for a bottle and his mouth watered thinking of alcohol. The older man explained to Jim how he had picked up smoking on occasion when he just needed to have a drink but knew he shouldn't. Couldn't allow himself to lose his sober chips they had given him for increments of time without alcohol.

One time, late at night when Jim wasn't allowed to eat because of a test the next morning and Frank hadn't wanted to go home yet, the man had whispered to Jim quietly about his counseling sessions his sponsor had asked him to go to to help with his anger. The sessions, while difficult and angering in their own way did actually help.

"I don't want to be yer Dad, Jim." Frank had whispered into the dark room when Jim's eyes had been dropping. "You already had a dad. I just wanna be yer friend."

When he was finished dressing, Jim went back out to see that Frank was no longer in the room but the door was cracked open enough for him to see the shadow of the man with a hand to his ear. He was on the phone.

Grabbing his meager things Jim collected anything that was his then walked to the door. He had his hand on the door for it to swoosh open when Frank's voice caught his attention.

"Lookie here Pike, if he doesn't want to talk to you then you best just stay away and quit callin' me. I ain't in charge of him... No, he didn't tell me anythin' and if he did I wouldn't tell ya ...'cause that's not my business!" He stopped talking for a second but when he spoke again Jim almost involuntarily took a step back. "Alright Fleet-bag, I get your confused but if he don't want to talk to you I ain't gonna make him fucking talk to you!" With that the sound of a comm closing echoed through the now seemingly silent hospital floor. Jim's eyes were wide staring at the slightly shaking shadow of the older man outside his door as Frank clutched the comm tight in his grip. He stood like that for a few minutes and Jim feared going outside the room lest the man who used to beat on him would return in full force. But then Frank surprised him yet again when he took a deep breath, then another and relaxed his shoulders before putting away his comm unit and turning back to the door to come into the room only to run into a still shell-shocked Jim.

"Oh..." Frank said in surprise seeing Jim. Jim cleared his throat and licked his lips after a minute.

"I'm ready."

Frank nodded and turned to walk out. Jim followed a foot behind smirking when he saw a nurse at her station scowling at Frank. Most likely for yelling on her floor.

It wasn't until they were pulling into the long dirt path that was their driveway that Jim finally spoke.

"Thanks for that. With Pike and all. I'm just... I'm not ready to deal with all that yet..." Jim refused to look at his step father choosing instead to stare out the window. Frank said nothing but squeaked the truck into the space he usually parked in. He leaned forward after turning off the engine.

"He's called me three times, Jim. He's worried about ya." Jim nodded. He knew. He didn't know what he wanted or what he was going to do but he knew Pike cared for him. Frank shrugged. "I told you befor' that this is yer house too an you can stay as long as ya want but you gotta talk to someone."

"I will," Jim said quickly lying through his teeth. "I'm just not ready." The older man nodded biting at his lip and scratching the thick stumble on his cheek. Jim looked over at him for the first time an idea popping into his head. "I want to help out on the farm. Do some work. Fix the fences or paint or mend the roof of the barn. Anything. I don't care." He wanted to do something with his hands. He needed to get out of his head for even a few hours. Frank looked over at him with a strange expression on his face. His eyes were creased at the sides and the side of his lip was upturned almost like... Almost like he was smiling. He  _was_  smiling, Jim realized. He didn't think he'd ever seen the man smile.

"Well for now I think you need to git up'ta yer room an sleep for a bit but in a few days I think we can work something out. I could always use some help around the farm." Frank was smirking with a small glint in his eye. It wasn't menacing or scary but rather comforting. As if he was excited to start working with Jim. Jim let a small smile cross his lips and he nodded feeling himself starting to get tried.

"I'd like that," he said getting out of the car and closing the door behind himself. Together the two of them walked into their home.


	8. The Rescue of Your Heart and Mine

A ray of sunlight not muted by Earth's ozone layer shined into the sleek black shuttle as it flew closer and closer to Earth. Earth was a hazy orb of greens, blues and browns all swirling around each other. It was hard to believe millions of people took up residence on the green blobs nestled between the soft blues. From where the shuttle craft flew there was no identifying features only slashes of color, almost like an artist angry with their work and spraying paint over an already finished canvas. 

"Entering into Earth's atmosphere, sirs," the pilot called from the front of the small spacecraft the two senior members of the  _Enterprise_  had used to get off their ship discretely.

"Dr. McCoy," the Vulcan said calmly to the brooding man beside him. When the man gave no response he tried his name again, louder. Only then did the doctor look over to the Vulcan. "We are close." He said. McCoy nodded turning back to the window silently.

The doctor was lost in thought, too quiet and eyes clouded. Much like he had been since the Captain's sudden departure and even more sudden resignation. Leonard stared out the view window and couldn't find it in himself to be afraid of the space that was beyond the four inch thick plastic glass. He was tired. Angry. But really more angry than tired. It had been almost a month and a half – really two months since he had been called to the Captain's ready room only to be told the Captain himself was gone from the ship. Leaving without a goodbye and resigning his captaincy with no pre-notion as to why he was leaving and no thought as to inform Leonard – his best goddamn friend – that he was jumping ship.

"Something doesn't feel right about this whole thing." Pike had admitted a few weeks ago when he'd commed them to tell them that Jim was in the hospital in Riverside, Iowa though, he didn't know why. Frank, Jim's step father was there with him refusing to give Pike any details at all.

 _Jim was in the hospital,_  Leonard had thought to himself.  _Of course he was. The kid couldn't keep himself safe to save his life._  Leonard had then berated himself for how stupid that had sounded even in his own head.

They had just gotten done with their mission when Pike called. A mission that would have gone a lot smoother were the Captain there to lead it. Damn natives and their stupid traditions of honoring leadership.

"We would like to speak with the Captain and only the captain." The head native had said looking at Spock with disgust.

"The Captain is not available. For the time being I am Acting Captain Spock."

"Nonsense. We will speak with only Captain Kirk."

"Indeed however he is not here you can only speak with me."

"Then we shall not negotiate."

It had gone on for a week and a half before Spock could convince the native Shamen to talk to him about trade agreements.

"Is that the reason you have only asked myself and Doctor McCoy in for this conference instead of the entire bridge crew?" Spock had asked Admiral Pike who nodded his head on the view screen.

"It's not that I don't trust the crew, Mister Spock, but something had to happen to make the kid run." Spock had inclined his head in agreement. It was then they had decided how to get the  _Enterprise_  back to Earth with raising any red flags. The ship needed some upgrades – Scotty had sure made that known ever since their last shore leave – so it wouldn't raise any suspicions as to why they were going back to Terra. It had been agreed upon that when they settled into Earth's orbit Admiral Pike would comm Captain Spock on the Bridge to ask him and Doctor McCoy to come down dirtside for a debrief on their next mission that was, as Pike said, "Only a milk run but the Amorality wants to see you nonetheless." It was all bullshit of course but they needed some way to get the two officers to the planet without rousing any suspicion. Though who they were suspicious of Leonard still wasn't sure. Only Jim could answer that.

Leonard McCoy scoffed at the window as they got lower and lower towards the planet. He would never deny that he was angry, furious even. He and Jim were... were  _something_. Something he couldn't even name and the kid had just run off and left. Left the ship, left the crew. Left him...

"We will bring the Captain back," Spock murmured close to Leonard's ear making him jump slightly. Leonard nodded looking at the Vulcan and seeing real determination in his eye.

Yes. They would find Jim and bring him home.

Or punch him in the face.

Either was fine with Leonard at the moment.

-o0o-

The afternoon sunlight was almost too hot as its rays beat down on Jim's back and neck. He wore no shirt and faded jeans with boots as he used all of his strength to hammer down on the older nails on the roof of the barn. Sweat rolled down the tip of his nose and back of his neck making him shiver but he ignored it in favor of fixing another board on the old roof. Jim was perched precariously but sturdy on a ladder latched to the barn and dug into the grassy ground beneath him.

"Jim! Take a break!" Someone yelled from below. Jim, hand in the air ready and willing to loose himself in the mind numbing work of roof repair, stilled looking down. Frank stared up at him with hands on his hips and dirt on his shirt. If it had been a week ago Jim would have scoffed and bellowed something over his shoulder about needing to just finish up. But, now things were different. He didn't try to hurry up and get everything done. There was always tomorrow.

It had been two weeks and three days since he'd come home from the hospital. He'd spent the first three days in bed slumbering like Sleeping Beauty waiting for her kiss to wake. He'd been woken up several times at even intervals by Frank and forced to eat, drink, or use the bathroom. Jim couldn't remember the last time he'd slept so deeply and peacefully – probably before he went to Tarsus.

On the third day Jim had felt rejuvenated and only a little confused as he opened his eyes to see his bedroom and not his captain's quarters. It hurt, of course it always hurt. His heart gave a squeeze in his chest and the back of his throat got thick making it hard to breath. He just sat there for a minute that turned into two minutes which morphed into five then fifteen and thirty and all of the sudden Jim had heard a loud bang and a curse and he found himself sitting on his bed staring at the wall for an hour and a half. He'd shaken himself, scolded himself.

_Get it together, Jim._

Then he'd picked himself up and made to get dressed in proper clothes, take a shower and brush the fur from his teeth. Jim had only let himself shower until his mind had started to wonder and he'd quickly switched the temperature from comfortable to freezing cold to zap himself out of whatever melancholy pity-party he had about fallen into. He had jumped from the shower and toweled off and pulled on warn jeans and a dirty shirt. He had then made his way down the steps skipping the third and eighth step out of habit of not wanting to hear the creak-cracking of the old wood then walked into the kitchen. Frank sat with a bowl of milk with the remnants of cereal in front of him and a PADD in his other hand. Jim had sat at the table across from the older man intending to get his bearings before scowering the kitchen for food and something to drink but then Frank spoke.

"Pike called." That was all he said not even looking away from what he was reading on his device.

Jim's heart had dropped again as he thought of the old man who was like another father to him and who had left high and dry with no goodbye and a hastily written resignation letter. It had been his only choice if he wanted his crew – Hell, his  _family_  – to stay safe. But all the same it hurt. It was an all-consuming hurt that left him feeling empty and forgotten. Unless and beaten.

"I didn't answer but he left a message. You could listen if you want."

"No," Jim said too fast with a bite to his voice. Frank didn't react however and instead flicked the PADD's screen with his thumb to the next page. The two sat in silence for a few more minutes before the older man got up, bowl of milk still sitting on the table and walked to the fridge. He grabbed a few things from there and something from the cupboard before coming back and placing an empty bowl in front of Jim's face with a spoon to his right and milk and some type of sugary cereal to his left.

"Eat. When you get done we'll get on outside and see what you can do." Then he turned back to his morning paper on his PADD. Jim regarded the food with dumbstruck eyes. Sure Frank had helped him the past few days bringing him things to eat and ordering him to drink but Jim had been mostly out of it for all that time. This was the first time that Jim had seen the old man at work helping him and it was almost as stunning as when he's shown up at the hospital with new clothes in toe.

So, with nothing better to do, Jim ate.

When he was finished and the dishes were put away Frank led Jim outside through their mud room where he pointed to a pair of boots for the younger man to use then continued out the door. They walked the short distance to the old rickety barn in relative silence. When they entered Jim felt a wave of nostalgia hit him like a brick wall. He haven't been in the barn since he'd gotten that call from Lynn to come see her all those years ago. The barn used to be his safe haven where he hid when the monsters or Frank got too loud during the night. It was where his father's cherry red corvette used to rest before he had driven it off that cliff and into the quarry. There was still an empty spot in the back of the large barn where the car would have sat. A silent homage.

The barn smelled the same and Jim almost let himself smile. Almost. Out of everything that had changed in his life from Tarsus and Pike to Starfleet and the planets beyond some things remained a constant and that was the smell of his old barn. Straw layered the ground with piles of it at the corners and mounds of hay high enough to reach the ceiling stacked at the far end. Jim knew Frank sold the hay to farmers all along their road for extra money. Dust billowed and shined in the branches of light that shown through the holes in the roof making Jim cringe at the thought of what he was breathing in but then he ignored it as Frank led him to the other side of the barn.

"Today I'll have you mowing the back corner near the corn field that we ain't usin' this summer." Jim nodded somewhat annoyed he couldn't get his hands dirty fixing something or tinkering with one of the tractors. "An don't gimme that look yer still looking shitty from bein' in the hospital so I'mma give you some easy shit to do ta get ya back on yer feet, savvy?"

Jim felt a small smile lift across his face at Frank's word choice and nodded. The old man pulled a tarp off of one of his lawn mowers that had a chair to sit on while he moved then patted it like the machine was one of his old beauties. Frank, muscles heaving and a sweat stain already under his arms mounted the large mower. Jim was confused, didn't Frank say he'd be doing the mowing? The man situated himself on his ride and procured the keys from his dusty jeans. He inserted the keys and Jim waited for the mower to spur to life then frowned when it only puttered a few times before going out completely like a jerk that made Frank jump a little.

"Well would ya look at that? Seems like this thing needs a bit of work. You can fix 'er up, right Jim?" Frank swung his leg then jumped off the large grass cutter landing beside Jim.

The blonde haired man looked at Frank with a skeptical eye. "I'll need some–"

"Here's some tools," Frank interrupted bending over one of the many a benches beside him to procure a full tool box that was large and no doubt heavy holding all of the tools he would need. He set it down at Jim's feet then turned waving and walking away.

"I'll be on the roof if you need me."

And he was gone with Jim staring after him, a look of surprise on his face. The surprise only lasted for so long until he was on his back under the mower with grease on his forehead and his hands inside the belly of the machine. He had a smirk on his face as his mind imagined the mower he worked on was really his beautiful metal lady.

Fixing the mower turned into fixing the tractor which morphed into tinkering with the planter that then turned into helping Frank fix a hole in the roof which lead Jim to where he was now, two weeks later, looking down at Frank with sweat in his eyes.

"Don't gimme that  _one more minute_  bullshit and get your ass down here. I made Iced Tea." The old man yelled to which Jim actually laughed. A real genuine laugh that bubbled from his chest and felt right coming out of his mouth. He then nodded setting his tools inside the pouch that slung off his waist and climbed down the ladder. He clambered down making sure to plant each and every foot so as not to fall... again.

 _I fall one time and suddenly Frank doesn't trust me to climb up the ladder without being hooked to the thing._  Jim grumbled halfheartedly. He was thankful though that their ladder could dig itself into the ground and attach itself to the barn, or any surface really. It made Jim shudder to think about the older models of ladders that were just that – a ladder. With really nothing except the building to lean itself against. Thank god for new technology.

"You made Iced Tea?" Jim asked once he'd shimmied himself to the ground and wiped the sweat from his face. "You'll make a great housewife someday."

Frank threw him a cloth to which Jim graciously took to pat at the sweat on his face and bare chest. The old man then shook his head turning away indicating Jim to follow into the house. They entered through the mud room, Jim relishing in the cool air conditioning making goose pimples rise on his arms. True to his word Frank had made a batch of fresh Iced Tea, not the replicated stuff Jim used to drink during his time at the Academy but real honest-to-God tea that was brown rust colored but oh so sweet and cold on his parched throat.

"I should have the roof finished by Thursday," Jim said after the two had sat in silence for a time drinking their tea and feeling the cool house around them. Frank nodded taking another long sip. "I think the fence in the back needs mending before those deer eat all the corn."

"If it's this hot tomorrow I'm not sure I'll be able to work very long," Jim murmured into his glass. Frank inclined his head in understanding.

"It's supposed to rain."

Together the two sat for a time just talking of random things until their tea was finished and their break over. Jim was the first to stand soon followed by Frank as they made their way back outside into the heat of the day. With a few strides Jim walked to the ladder and hooked himself securely and Frank wandered into the barn to do the chores he needed done. When Jim was back on the roof placing nails and hammering in wood he let his mind wander.

Is this really what he wanted to do for the rest of his life? Fix things around the farm and tinker on tractors?

No.

But would he force himself to stay in order for his crew to remain alive?

Yes.

To ensure that his family – Spock, Uhura, Scotty, Chekov and Sulu remained unharmed would he stay here for the rest of his life?

Hell yes.

To make sure that Bones stayed safe?

Damn straight.

So Jim, the youngest Captain in Starfleet history, continued on with hammering.

-o0o-

The sunlight turned to an orange red color as it waned and waxed, dwindling as its heat and force faded giving away to the night sky. Jim had just finished with the last of the wooden boards he could secure to the roof for the night by the time a cool gust of wind blew him sideways and he quickly clung to the ladder. He looked up at the sky remembering the heat of the day and was surprised to see thick heavy clouds on the horizon. He still had a good twenty minutes or so by the look of the clouds but the impending storm was soon to be upon him. It was time to go inside.

"Jim!" Frank yelled from below. Jim looked down. The wind had begun again grabbing at his jeans and making him shiver as the last remnants of sweat dried on his skin. He should have warn a shirt. "We need to tarp it so the rain doesn't get into the barn!"

Jim yelled his okay then waited for the man to toss up the tarp. They could use a stasis field to act as a temporary shield between the rain and rooftop but Frank was old fashioned and Jim didn't mind the work. Anything to keep his thoughts away if only for a bit longer. When the large folded and tied blue tarp was throw up Jim caught it then crawled over the ladder and up the roof to the places not yet fixed. He was slow and careful as the wind threatened to knock him over. He wasn't always a leap before looking kind of guy or at least he would like to think he wasn't. He was slow and precise as he moved careful not to be pushed over or, God forbid, fall through the roof. He didn't have Bones here to piece him back together anymore.

_Bones..._

_Not the time, Jim!_  He scolded himself focusing on his work. By the time he'd nailed down the tarp the wind had picked up three fold and he didn't feel comfortable on the rooftop anymore. His thoughts on the storm being a good twenty minutes away were proven false as lighting lit the sky under the dense black clouds moving overhead.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he muttered to himself maneuvering his body over to the ladder. Falling off of his barn at his childhood home is not how he wanted to die.

"Come on!" Frank yelled from somewhere over the howling wind and Jim moved faster. He got to the ladder just as the first drops of rain hit him. He severely wished he had a shirt on as another large drop hit him on his forehead with more starting to pepper his back. Quickly but still not wanting to fall, Jim made his way to the ground letting out a quick breathe when he reached solid dirt. He unhooked the ladder to bring back into the barn but Frank yelled for him to leave it. Rain started to pelt his skin. It started fast and was a downpour.

"Get inside!"

"What about the tractor?" Jim had to scream over the force of the rain. Frank, who had been standing not ten feet from him turned sharply, Jim thought he heard a curse but wasn't sure. He stood there for only a moment longer before he swore under his breath thinking about their new tractor out in the field. With all this rain it would get stuck and they'd never have a change to get it out without destroying the crops that had been planted a few weeks ago. The tractor would sink into the mud and fertile soil and stick.

_Damnit._

Jim took off at a sprint bypassing the older man on his left. "I'll get it you get inside the barn and check for leaks!" He yelled into the man's face so he could hear him. Frank pursed his lips but nodded. Jim turned around to sprint hard out to the field. Rain pelted him soaking his jeans and sliding off of his bare chest as he forced his legs to pump as hard as he could. It almost felt like one of the Academy's obstacle courses with water making his path slick and long grass and growing crops creating hazards. Jim absently wondered when he had started to care so much about his old home. When he was younger he used to want to get as far away from this place as fast as he could. Now, however, he sprinted towards their tractor not for the first time wishing the rain would let up if only for a second to let him get his footing.

Finally, when his breath was coming fast from his chest he spotted the work machine and pounded mud to get to it. He hopped on top flipping the ignition then giving himself a mental high five when it puttered for only a second then turned on. He slowly laid into the accelerator hoping there wasn't enough rain to make it impossible to move. In the back to the right the large, thick tractor tire started to spin but, thankfully, the other tire had traction and hungrily bit at the ground until the other tire also gained ground and he was moving. Across the sky was a torrent of rain only broken up by the occasional clap of thunder and slice of lightning.

_A lightning storm in space._

Jim shook his head needing to focus on the present, not on the past. This was his life. This is what he needed to do to keep everyone safe. Right now he needed to get the tractor into the barn then get inside before he got electrocuted.

Rain hit him so hard Jim thought he was under a waterfall, a part of him felt like he was drowning as rain water got into his mouth and slid from his nose. But he was almost to the barn, almost to his salvation. The tractor, the one he had fixed a few days after starting to help around the farm, was a little soldier and Jim almost wanted to pat himself on the back for getting the old thing to work in the first place let alone in the middle of a tsunami.

With a sigh, Jim entered the barn feeling the exact moment rain stopped pelting his body as he crossed the threshold. Frank was standing over to the side looking at him with concern, hands on hips and lips pressed together into a thin line. Jim maneuvered the wet machine over to its spot without a word and parked. The engine sputtered before it went out. Jim heaved his soggy self off the tractor and jumped to the ground feeling hair stick to his forehead.

"Roof's holding," Frank said gruffly when Jim was close enough. Jim nodded but didn't say anything to Frank. Theirs was a strange relationship that was still in its early stages of familiarity even though he'd been home for a while now and he'd known the man his entire life. Frank didn't have to say thank you to Jim for making the run to save their most expensive and needed machine at the same time Jim wasn't expecting anything from the older man. They both had their quarks and slowly they were trying to figure each other out again. Change was a funny thing and both could claim they had changed.

Frank, a recovering alcoholic with an anger problem and no filter.

Jim, ex-Captain of the starship  _Enterprise_  with a martyr complex that couldn't be stopped and too many monsters chasing after him.

But now they were just two men soaking wet and shivering inside a dark barn wanting nothing more than to get inside to get something warm and in Jim's case; to get a shirt.

By mutual agreement Frank turned and Jim followed towards the doors to the barn. The rain was so thick it made it hard to see the house from where they were. Jim looked to Frank who cursed and took off through the small lake that was once a grassy divider between barn and house. Jim steeled himself before running with his head down to get inside. When he reached their house Frank was holding the door open for him and he ducked inside.

It must have been a misjudgment of footing or maybe he just had too much energy from the heart pounding race to get the tractor. Whatever the reason Jim took three steps into the house before his fourth step came out from under him and he went down hard on his back. Something hard hit the back of his head and Jim blinked finding himself flat on his back, confused on how he had even gotten there in the first place. He lay there for a second, stunned before he felt something bubble up from his chest and suddenly he was laughing. Hard. Tears came to his eyes as he laughed because  _really_? Had he really just slipped on slick boots and fallen to the ground? Wasn't he supposed to be some suave Starship captain, always in control and never a hair out of place? But now he lay, soaking wet and just this side of hysterical laughter booming from his chest on the ground of the home he had never wanted to see again with the man who used to beat him. It was funny in the not funny way but also in the way that made tears come to Jim's eyes whether from actual laughter or sadness, he wasn't sure.

A few feet from the boy on the ground stood Frank with wide eyes as he stared at Jim. The kid was on the ground laughing and while the sound should have been nice to hear as oppose to the somber tone he had had since coming home it still didn't sit right with the old man. The laughing was almost too much. It sounded like crying. Frank stepped forward until he was in front of Jim then knelt down setting his hand lightly and gingerly on the boy's chest to get his attention. Jim startled, his laugh dying in his chest as he looked up at Frank. Jim's eyes were a clear blue that shined almost too bright against the reddened whites of his eyes. He looked lost and confused. Angry and sad all at once.

"Come on, up and at 'em," Frank said after a minute or two. He held out his hand to Jim. Jim looked at the man's hand with a hint of skepticism but then he felt a dull ache start to blossom at the back of his head where he'd felt himself hit something and he took the man's hand. Frank pulled Jim to his feet almost too easily for his older age. As the younger man righted himself he felt the dull ache turn to a small pound and brought his hand back to poke at the back of his head. He was surprised to feel a large bump just below the crown of his head already forming. He hissed as he poked at it. Frank pointed to a chair at the kitchen table. "Sit."

Jim looked at him then down at himself noting his sopping wet jeans and shivering as the air conditioning of the house blew cold air on his wet, shirtless chest. But then Frank put his hands on his hips and Jim put his own hands in the air in surrender. He sat at the table feeling water drip down his back and slide from the strands of his hair. Frank left the kitchen for a few minutes before returning with the first aid kit, a white shirt for Jim and a towel for them both. He went behind Jim after throwing the things on the table and Jim had to force himself not to stiffen.

Frank's hands were oddly and surprisingly gentle as he prodded at where the bump was on the back of Jim's head. It felt weird, Frank touching him in a way that wasn't meant to hurt but to help. Jim hissed as he touched the most sensitive spot then smiled at himself in a self-deprecating manner. Of course he would hurt himself running through a door. Kirk luck running true to form.

"Well you ain't gonna die," Frank took his hands away from Jim's head.

"Pity," Jim muttered under his breath. Frank eyed him coming around in front. "Dry yerself off and I'll get something hot to warm us up. Take a few of these," he grabbed a white bottle of pain medication and handed it to Jim before he moved off to somewhere in the kitchen to make something.

Jim grabbed the bottle, shook out three tablets and shot them back with a dry swallow. He then stood up feeling a headache start to take hold of his head and grabbed a towel to start to dry his chest and pants. Ideally he should go up to his room to change but something made him stay in the kitchen and wait for Frank to finished whatever he was getting together.

When he had dried his hair, chest and arms to the best of his ability he wrapped the towel around his waist above his jeans shucking on the shirt that smelled of fresh detergent. Hen then sat down to take off his muddy boots. He unlaced them feeling water drip from the laces and on to the ground adding to the puddle that was already there. Frank sat down opposite him with two mugs of what looked to be steaming coffee. Jim took his wrapping his fingers around the chipped ceramic and relishing in the heat that spread from his fingers to his hands and down his arms.

"Sorry we can't have any beer in the house," Frank said and Jim was stunned into silence again because he used that word – sorry. Jim could remember when he was twelve and cowering in the corner of this very kitchen as Frank yelled and yelled hitting the walls before coming for him too shitfaced to see anything other than his anger. Jim could remember being hit and slamming into walls while the other man sputtered with his rage. He could never remember, however, the man ever apologizing. Even when he sobered up and saw what he had done.

But this was a new man who sat in front of him. Jim didn't really believe people could change but he did think they could get better with time and help.

"It's okay," Jim admitted then, trying to lighten the suddenly tense mood he said, "I shouldn't drink anyways. I think I'm allergic."

Frank looked at him dubiously. "Allergic? To what, alcohol?"

"Yeah," Jim chuckled looking away. "I always seems to break out in handcuffs."

"That sounds like something someone said before," Frank commented.

Jim smiled knowing who he was referring to but at the same time not giving anything away. "Who?"

"Ya know, that guy who... who..." The older man swatted the air trying to make his point and Jim smiled again. He'd found himself doing that a lot in the last week. "Robert-"

"Downey Jr!" Frank yelled suddenly startling Jim, but only a little. "See? I knew it." The man let a small smile twitch across his face for a moment before his face returned back to his scowl that Jim had quickly learned weeks ago didn't mean he was angry. He just had a resting bitch face.

Rain slammed into the window over the kitchen sink. Jim looked over almost mourning the nice day that had just had. The sky was inky black with flashes of lightning brightening up the clouds for a split second before going black again. The storm made him twitch as thunder crashed across the sky. At the same time however he liked the darkness the storm brought. It reminded him of space and the large vastness of black with stars appearing and disappearing as they flew past in his great silver ship. Planets would come into view, bright and full of life or vegetation or maybe nothing at all being too hot or too cold or possibly covered solely in cool water or dusty sand. The planets could have great atmosphere with climates suitable for life sustainment or they could be wastelands with too much carbon or nitrogen in the air to support life. It used to be Jim's job to figure it out. To find new worlds and explore them. Cultivate life and see beyond space. To discover new places and meet exciting people with his crew...

But that wasn't his life now, and it made his heart hurt in his chest as it beat dully in tune to his headache.

"Someone threatened my crew's lives," Jim whispered suddenly lulled by the pounding rain hitting the window and hot coffee warming his hands. He didn't know why but his mouth had just started speaking and Frank stayed silent. "It was an alien, one I'd only heard stories about but he came to me and he said that if I didn't clear out he'd start killing them. My crew. The people I loved. And he could. He could kill them without blinking an eye." Tears collected in Jim's eyes but he fought them. He didn't blink staring down at his coffee mug like it was his only life line. "So I did. I resigned my commission and I came back here and I don't... I don't know what I'm supposed to do now." He could feel himself shaking just like he could hear the pelting of rain against glass but it felt like nothing mattered. His head throbbed and his heart clenched as a wave of despair and solitude blanketed him. He felt like he couldn't breathe.

"Do you love your crew?" The man sitting opposite him questioned looking him straight in the eye. Jim sat up straighter, anger flooding his veins because of course he did.  _Of course_  he loved his crew.

"Yes." He all but spat feeling a tear trickle down his face. "Yes. They're my family." He said trying to express all of his love and loss into those few words. He could feel his hands shaking when a trickle of hot coffee spilled onto his fingers.

"Well then, you did the right thing." Frank gently pulled the coffee mug from Jim's white knuckled grip. "There's nothing more ya could've done."

Jim looked at the man with his mouth slightly parted and another tear making tracks down his face. It hurt. It hurt so much to think about his ship and his crew and his friends and his family. It hurt to know they were exploring and being together and he was here soaking wet and crying in front of the man who had caused him so many nightmares.

"It doesn't feel like it." He whispers more to himself than to the older man.

"No it probably don't," Frank agreed leaning forward in his chair ignoring as it creaked to get closer to Jim. "It probably fuckin' hurts and feels so damn unfair that ya wanna scream but listen Jimmy, you just gotta think of yer crew. You did what you thought was best an that's all ya can do." Jim looked up at Frank feeling his headache start to dissipate somewhat as the meds took hold. "It's gonna be okay, Jimmy."

In that moment Frank reminded Jim of Pike and if that wasn't the strangest comparison Jim didn't know what was. He looked at the old man who was still wet from the rain and let himself nod his head suddenly feeling tired. Frank cleared his throat feeling the back of his neck get hot and thinking if there was anything else he should say to the boy in front of him. His sponsor had told him to be nice to Jim, as if he wouldn't try to be already. He said that when he got angry instead of grabbing a bottle he should get some tools and fix something broken instead of breaking something that was already whole. He didn't have all the answers – hell, he didn't have any answers at all. But he still wanted to help the kid. Jim had been through too much to be degraded to this; a young man too skinny and crying at the table of his parents' house filled with too much anger and sadness to be healthy.

Jim looked over at Frank grateful for the words he had just said. Yes. It had been his only choice and yes, he was doing this to save his best friend and his crew.

Everything would be okay.

In time.

"Alright," Frank put his hands on the table setting himself up to stand. "Get on upstairs and take a shower or change or whatever then come back down and I'll have dinner ready." He ordered. Jim wiped at his eyes and gave a small laugh when the man nodded to himself like that was a mighty fine suggestion and turned away. The man started humming to himself a soft tone that made the tiredness Jim felt drag at his eye lids. Maybe he did need a quick shower to warm his cold bones then a meal would be nice before going to bed. Jim stood from the table grabbing the towel still around his waist and throwing it into the laundry room as he left the kitchen. He made his way through the living room towards the stairs looking at the rain to the right of the front door. It was too dark outside to see anything. From somewhere in the kitchen Franks humming turned to singing.

"Mamma's don't let your babies grow up to be Cowboys..."

Jim held back his chuckle as he neared the staircase. He was about to round it when there was a knock, quick and concise, from the wooden front door. Maybe it was the drowsiness from the pain medication Frank had given him or the lull of warm that had slowly been spreading through Jim's chest to start to heal the ice that had formed around his heart that caused Jim to turn towards the door. Maybe he wasn't thinking or maybe there was some small part of him that forgot about everything that had happened but whatever the reason was he latched onto the handle and opened the door. Jim froze feeling his body tense up and let out a sharp breath as he looked at the two people standing on his porch.

Spock. Bones. Both drenched in water. Bones had a snarl on his face and anger in his eyes.

_What?_

Fast, quicker than Jim could react in his surprised state, something hard came striking across his face. He jerked back from the force of the blow stumbling backwards. His eyes were wide as he slowly brought his hand to his throbbing cheek and quickly swelling eye. Leonard tried hard not to notice the aching pain in his hand as he looked at the man he felt so much anger for. The man who he had risked his career to bring aboard the  _Enterprise_. The man he had saved too many times. The man he lov-

The man who was his best friend.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Bones yelled.

Jim stepped back.

_No. No. No._

They couldn't be here. Sha'thrill... He was going to kill them. The alien was going to kill them and they were all going to die. This was his fault. He shouldn't have come back here he should have taken the next flight to another system and disappeared off the face of the universe. He should have done anything to keep them away. They were here. They were going to die. That alien would kill them.

_Oh God. Oh God. Oh God._

Jim shook his head feeling loss and sadness and dread overtake him. Before thinking, before any rational thought could come anywhere close to his mind he slammed the door shut and turned around needing to get away from them. He went to run out the other door through the kitchen but there stood Frank with a scowl on his face and suddenly he was ten years old again and he knew his biggest enemy was the drunk man spitting and sputtering in front of him. Frank went to put his hands up in surrender to show he wasn't going to hurt Jim but all Jim saw was movement and he was gone, bolting up the steps three at a time. His breath came fast and heart beat unevenly. He shook so bad it took four tries to lock the door but when he did he dived into the corner of his room where there was a three foot space between wall and bed then grabbed his head with his hands and sobbed.

They were going to die.

It was all his fault.

Outside in the darkness of the Iowa rainstorm Mr. Spock turned to Dr. McCoy with a raised eye brow and a flash of annoyance in his eyes.

"Doctor, I do not think hitting him was the best option."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recently broke my ankle and had to have surgery so sorry for the horrendously long wait between chapters. Please feel free to drop me a comment! Feedback is the writers gold!


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